"Miss Greif"

I was compelled by the character of the narrator, and more so his ignorance then his success. In the first paragraph he talks about the prestige of literary success, yet pities Mrs. Grief nevertheless. Her stories cannot be altered, even he himself is unable to add anything to their betterment. Still he criticizes her for being poor, under-dressed, and meek, despite that she is grateful, selfless, and unintimidated by his criticisms of her work. She dies being nothing less than herself, while he goes into his life with expectations for himself and for others. Could it be that he's so seemingly afraid of her work because she is female yet created such innovative masterpieces that others had not yet seen before?