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"You hay'n't hurt your arm, I trust, my dear?" he added, anxiously. 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. He sat with folded arms and knitted brows, thinking intently. She never knew what became of her farmer after that. No police officers or lurking storms were anywhere in sight. But I'm not worrying about that. ’ ‘Are we to infer that he had a choice?’ enquired Gerald. I want to know what you are doing; how you think this work of yours really does serve women. They must have a key. “You knew it,” he added, in her momentary silence.
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