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. “Dear friend,” she said, “do not magnify me into a physiological problem. He yelled at the girls for neglected to hand Lucy a pair of shorts or a sweater while they stood around in shock. You don’t know the thoughts we have; the things we can do and say. It dealt from floor to ceiling and end to end with the Theory of the Forms of Life; the very duster by the blackboard was there to do its share in that work, the very washers in the taps; the room was more simply concentrated in aim even than a church.
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