Jill saw that her present self-knowledge had been nascent at that point; she had never been truly indifferent to masculine stares.  Under the unique necessities of adjusting to life with the Man from Mars she had been forced to shuck off part of her artificial, training-imposed persona, that degree of lady-like prissiness a nurse can retain despite the rigors of an unusually no-nonsense profession.  But Jill hadn't known that she had any prissiness to lose until she lost it.