” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. " "I, a thief?" "Aye; thief, Roundhead and all. " "Well, well—wait awhile," returned Quilt; "his lordship won't forget you. 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. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing.
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