Re: Third class hallways
"You didn't ask for compliments," she said as she rolled her eyes again. "I'm not going to tell you that you look great when you look like shit." She watches the whole thing with the handkerchief with raised eyebrows, wondering at first what the hell this woman is doing digging up between her legs, and the appearance of the small square of fabric doesn't necessarily answer any questions. Weird.
She looks down at herself at the question, though, taking in cardigan and skirt and (yes, admittedly) ugly shoes. Both socks are sagging now, and one of the cardigan's buttons has come undone near her stomach, like the clothing doesn't quite fit her right and is trying to right a situation gone strange and wrong by leaving her body. "Do I look like a girl scout?" Even with her current get-up, she's pretty sure she doesn't. "Maybe I just don't like seeing woman who've been on the wrong end of shit." She lifts one hand from its place on her hip and gestures loosely to take in all of what Vaudeville looks like in that moment.