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‘Dieu du ciel, for what do you take me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ he threw at her. 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. “And, after all, I am just one common person!” She watched the throb of the arteries in the stem of her neck, and put her hand at last gently and almost timidly to where her heart beat beneath her breast. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. Jack appealed to the new auditors, and again detailed his story, but with no better success than heretofore. He had reacted by pushing her away, disgust and frustration on his face. I done just what you asked.
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