Hetty, looking out of the window—she always smoked her after-breakfast cigarette at the window for the benefit of the less advanced section of Morningside Park society—and trying not to raise objections, saw Miss Stanley going down toward the shops. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared. I followed you in. “A lady, Dunster.
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