The terror faded from her eyes. 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. She touched bow to strings, playing a fifth. “I can tell you are thinking about it. He seemed to know a great deal about life. ‘How is this? Proo-den-ss. It was not an affair of the conscience; it was vaguely based upon insolence and defiance.
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