Sir John once more looked around him. " The Wastrel advanced. For the present, he murmured his farewells, and turning, caught Hilary’s eye and walked away, crossing the ballroom to move into the less opulent, and less crowded, saloon next door where servants were dispensing refreshments. " "That is your fault, none of mine. She had no inkling of that insupportable wrong. . “It is the same man, Annabel,” she said.
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