Sanguine they were not. Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky. 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. " "Except me, dear," insinuated Edgeworth Bess. ” “You have seen her—since last night?” “Yes. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. " "Jack!" cried Thames, in indignant surprise. The atmosphere at dinner was not propitious. Martin's Le Grand. It is a very small affair, after all, and you can pay me back if you will. She was definitely following him.
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