Pole coolies came joggling along with bobbing blocks of jade—white jade, splashed and veined with translucent emerald green. Stonily he had disengaged himself. He saw himself retreating from barricade to barricade, Ruth always advancing, perfectly oblivious of the terror she inspired. 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. That's the kind, my friend, that always fall soft. ’ ‘From a convent? Even if I wished to do it, I could not. But it's French manners, I suppose.
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