Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed. “But I am your husband,” he said. To get behind that impenetrable curtain, to learn why she hated her island. 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.
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