He stopped, panting hard, slamming his cane to the floor to make use of its much-needed support. ‘Peste,’ she wailed, as Emile dropped to the floor, ducking down. 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. ” “Why not?” she asked quietly. Quite trying of him not to be there when he is wanted.
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