"Do you see any likeness?" "Don't I," returned Jack, bitterly. " "Probably not. ‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. I’m sorry. 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. You deal with her. She would lure him, as he was an easily tempted child predator who could even more easily be turned into prey. There was a look in her eyes which puzzled him.
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