Furious shouting, and the thunder of running feet. These joyful bounds just lace into the stuff of my memories and stay there forever. 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. "A little. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait.
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