“She must go her own way. 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. “John, I’m so hungry. She would just have to show up and hope for the best. Faugh!” She took up the last morsel of roll, and held it delicately between her long slim fingers. Nothing else matters.
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