But what if she were to marry? He glanced towards the elderly dame and found her watching him, the dimple very much in evidence. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. ’ ‘For shame, Hilary,’ admonished his fiancée, casting a pitying glance at the refugees.
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