His eyes looked a little bloodshot to her; his face had lost something of its ruddy freshness. 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 wondered abjectly whether he intended to rape her before she was dead. As she averted her gaze, a terrible idea crossed her.
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