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. No; she'd never go back. ” “You are going to speak to me of things which happened before we met in London?” she asked quietly. I don’t feel it. The sun was setting in spectacular multicolored streams beyond Whitefield Park. She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. Later on I could scarcely have forgiven you. There was a girlfriend who was mentally ill. I might as well be at Morningside Park.
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