She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. I have counted you, and always hoped to count you, the best of my friends. I have always had a secret crush on him, to be honest with you. ” She covered her face with her hands. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action.
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