This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. 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. Kneebone, are these your French noblemen?" "Don't upbraid me!" rejoined the woollen-draper. ” He thought.
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