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. The real Ruth was as completely hidden as though she stood behind the walls of Agra Fort. ‘Oh, the Frenchie. And she did not merely affect to be driven—she felt driven.
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