" There had never been, from that fatal hour eight months gone down to this, the inclination to confess. You are NOT going to that ball!” Ann Veronica tried a less genial, more dignified note. Raising the bowl in his right hand, Jack glanced towards the balcony, in which the group of ladies were seated, and begged to drink their healths; he then turned to Kneebone and the others, who extended their hands towards him, and raised it to his lips. Earles threw down his pen with a little exclamation. It was her past now, not Annabel’s.
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