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. Twice he cleaned the old briar; still there was no improvement. She whispered, “Another car is coming,” as lights approached their car. Sheppard. It reverberated in the silence. But he would make it a point not to speak again to the girl. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew.
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