To-morrow I'll wire Cook's and the American Express in Hong-Kong to see if there is any mail. “I won’t give you a check though—Yes, I will. . ’ Her lashes fluttered. The air became hot and swollen with June humidity. 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. But Gerald took it for the routine interest in an eligible bachelor, although he was aware many females had an eye for scarlet regimentals. It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own. Somehow her walk home with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic rejection, a slamming.
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