" "That is a far more agreeable one, I must confess," returned Kneebone, with a self-sufficient smirk. "But, let that pass. It was the end, she told herself, fiercely. . Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. 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. But, say we're friends.
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