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 spinsters had purchased one grass-linen tablecloth; the girl and the young man had purchased nothing. "I beg your pardon!… A bit rocky this morning…. And I get myself dirty. Kneebone," observed Shotbolt, as he emptied his tenth tumbler; "I'm sure he's meditating an escape, and hopes to accomplish it to-night. Take it, if I die. ‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon.
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