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. "It is Jonathan. She felt his crotch through his jeans. ” Anna was speechless, but she had presence of mind enough to sit still until she had recovered herself. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle.
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