” She smiled grimly at the recollection of that lunch—tea and roll at a cheap café. “You see, dear, one IS passionately anxious for something—what is it? One wants to be CLEAN. The doctor had not heard from his people. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. They litter up the room. Time enough to do so when she has her affairs settled—if she can settle them. I might as well be at Morningside Park.
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