She could read that Martin had a crush on her and was perhaps even going to try and challenge John as he was the bold sort. 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. I will remember them, Sebastian, along with my mother and father, and all the others I came to love and lose. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. There’s something—puppyish in a man’s usual attitude to women.
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