The small Diedermayer clan was a captive audience. 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. Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street. ‘You have not the right. Her personal maidservant, the first she had ever had in her life, was joyful for her.
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