62 <8> A FIRST DATE WITH JOHN DIEDERMAYER The weekend began for her with that luxury of all luxuries, sleep. 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. It is now a point of view, differing widely, as the ignorant man differs from the educated. “Hospital? What for? What’s the matter with me?” Courtlaw’s voice sank to a whisper. I want you to be my wife. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. Sheppard, horror-stricken.
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