They arrived at the party shortly after 10:00pm. 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. Heaven alone knows why. ‘I don’t want a hue and cry after me, I thank you. ‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one. And, anyhow, it doesn’t matter to us.
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