But she was not sure just how to reach it. 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. Bravo!—the best cly-faker of 'em all couldn't have done it better. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. But whither The Tigress was bound or who the owner was lay beyond the reach of Ah Cum's deductions. 1. He never said hello, as if it had become a personal taboo for him.
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