It was, of course, ridiculous, and she would never be able to make anyone see that it was ridiculous.

But that was not all.

The very business itself absolutely disgusted her.

It disgusted her to such a point that she would have preferred to do it with her own hands in secret rather than see others do it openly in all its squalor.
The business might be more efficiently organized--for example, there was no reason why the sitting-room should be made uninhabitable between breakfast and dinner once a week--but it could never be other than odious.

The kitchen floor must inevitably be washed every day by a girl on her knees in sackcloth with terrible hands.