People don't warm to Mary Pierce. She walks through the crowd to outside show court three and people simply stare.

There is little attempt to approach her or seek a photograph. There are no pieces of paper shoved in her face, no shrieks of recognition. The fans just look at her unchanging face. Pierce looks as though she is in a permanent state of grief.

Yesterday the opposition was Grande in name more than nature. The engagingly athletic Italian Rita was fast around the court but her matchstick arms were simply not calibrated nor strong enough for the robust number nine seed. Pierce has now beaten Grande three times in four outings.

Even in a push-over 65-minute 61, 6-3 match, which now throws Pierce into quite a nice avenue in the draw in which she is guaranteed not to meet a seed until the semi-finals, she found little time to smile. There was no eye contact with anyone and as she walked from her chair to the court, little more than a frisson of mild menace and icy detachment was detectable.

With Pierce it was as though someone had grabbed her braided blond hair and tugged her face into a permanent wince.

The French girl needs her broad shoulders to carry the weight of cool public indifference and even though her father Jim has been demonised enough to have become an honorary member, along with Stephano Capriati and Damir Dokic, of the Fathers From Hell Club, there has been little thaw.

Pierce is now in the third round of the world's biggest tournament and as yet has not been asked to attend a general press conference. Not enough members of the media have requested it. The rule of thumb here is a request from six or more people is necessary.

The 24-year-old won the Australian Open in 1995 and reached Grand Slam finals in Paris in 1993 and Melbourne in 1997. Her current ranking of seven in the world suggests that she is a contender for the title here.

A possible clash with Aranxta Sanchez-Vicario evaporated yesterday. The Spaniard's defeat now leaves only the third seed Lindsay Davenport in the semi-final as a recognised serious hurdle for a player who loves the baseline. And at Wimbledon the crowd can be everything. Sanchez-Vicario blows and blusters and smiles and screams. The crowd love her and her emotions. Pierce under pressure adjusts her perfectly placed bandana. Sometimes the gift of being a world class tennis player simply isn't enough.