At first, while still a "beginner," her earnings were so small that there was some measure of charity in her aunt's sheltering of her. She was constantly reminded of the need of increasing her wages. But before this incentive had passed, before her pay began to amount to a fair charge for her board and lodging, before her spirit had recovered from the lethargy which had followed the loss of her father, she had been taken captive by "Speed." It was the keynote of her waking life. Every detail of the sweat-shop, the talk of her table mates, the groaning song of the belts--even the vitiated air--were "suggestions" beating in on her plastic consciousness, urging ever increasing rapidity. It had become a habit for her to hand over all her wages to her aunt. She had her father's lack of guile and less experience. The bedroom which Benjamin had shared with his daughter was rented to a stranger. Yetta had to sleep in the same bed with the twins. She had to wear their outgrown clothes. But even if she had realized how little she was getting in exchange for her wages, she would not have had the courage to go out among strangers. And she had not sufficient energy--after all the machine took--to argue about it with her bitter, hardened aunt. The drab monotony of her sweat-shop life was unbroken. The bosses changed frequently. So did the workers. But the process was unchanged--except that each new boss shaved the price per piece and pushed up the rate of speed. And then, after three years, a little flickering gleam of sunshine fell on Yetta's face. Rachel went to a ball. Mrs. Goldstein objected to "dance-halls" because she was old fashioned and knew nothing about them. Mr. Goldstein objected because he knew them all too well. So when Rachel announced one night at supper that she was going to "The Mask and Civic Ball of the Hester Street Democratic Club," a storm broke loose. Mr. Goldstein--none too gently--threw his daughter into the bedroom and locked the door. Later in the evening he came home a shade more drunk than usual. Smashing some furniture to wake the household, he delivered a speech on the text of female respectability and where he would rather see his daughter than in a dance-hall. The "grave" was the least unattractive place he mentioned. Rachel seemed to give in before the family wrath.