"Ay, what's the matter, boy!" reiterated Jackson sternly. “My dear Anna,” he answered. 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. She went to her own table and sat down. ‘Stay, Saling!’ The butler halted, looking round enquiringly.
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