This will be safer than cutting his throat on shore. She listened with dumb fear in her eyes. There! You are trying to take your hand away. At sight of his wan features, she forgot the urgency of her need for a moment, and fell to her knees at his bedside, placing her hands on his slack ones where they lay on the soiled coverlet. 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. “You are my friend,” she said, “if any one is. . I won’t even ask. And you will.
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