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. Seven hundred forty-two dollars and eighty-one cents, the sum total of her money in the world that she hid in a filigreed cigar box shelved behind her schoolbooks. I figured it would hurt your feelings if you knew I still talked to him, so I kept my mouth shut. "You'd better surrender quietly, Jack," he cried; "you've no chance.
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