When Julia sighs at Louis’s sadness (she saw his tears), Clarissa thinks her daughter embodies all the women who’ve sighed with frustration at men’s inscrutable desires. Clarissa wants to be the tragic figure of Louis: “an unhappy person, a strange person, faithless, unscrupulous, loose on the streets” (172).

Of all the rings Julia wears, none of them are the one Clarissa gave her for her 18th birthday. Clarissa asks how Julia is and immediately reproaches herself, seeing in this habitual question her own mother’s enraging habits. When Julia replies she’s okay, Clarissa compliments her appearance, commending herself for being habitually complimentary.

Julia’s friend Mary Krull is smoking outside, waiting to go shopping with Julia. Clarissa suggests Mary should come in to greet her, provoking silence in Julia. Clarissa thinks Mary is obligated to follow the basic rules of civility, no matter how radical her politics. Julia invites her in, though Clarissa regrets the suggestion.

Mary is in her forties with a shaved head and a wary expression. Clarissa thinks she looks like a stray dog: “a pathetic and ultimately dangerous creature who ostensibly needs a good home but whose hunger in fact runs so deep it cannot be touched by any display of love [.