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. “What were you doing outside Miss Pellissier’s flat to-night? You were looking at her windows. The manager had sketched the girl's character, or rather had interpreted it, from the incidents which had happened since dinner. And, if I'd my own way, I'd drown 'em all like a litter o' puppies. “Hospital? What for? What’s the matter with me?” Courtlaw’s voice sank to a whisper. Die game.
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