Amidship there was also canvas, and like that over the wheel, drab and dirty. An acute sense of living was in her veins, even the taste of her wine seemed magical. 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. "Hoddy, wake up!" She jerked his head to and fro until the hair stung.
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