He jumped back, cursing. She spent many days in the castle alone as he busied himself with his alchemy, or traveled to Florence to visit his remaining political connections. 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. ‘Mad as hatters!’ ‘It is you who is mad,’ mademoiselle told him crossly. He, therefore, desires to interrogate him. To perdition with them all. He grabbed her hair viciously and whispered loudly into her tear-streaked face.
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