"You needn't go far to do that," returned Quilt; "there he stands. 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. "You will never leave me," sobbed the poor woman, straining him to her breast. “I’d have to be blown up into a thousand pieces. "I told you I would call to bid you farewell, Mr. That's the way she strikes me. ’ ‘Miss?’ gaped the soldier.
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