Mr. 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. “I hope,” Annabel answered lazily, “that you have succeeded. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. ‘Ha! It’s you, is it?’ He threw a glance at his two juniors. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.
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