When the music ended, Malinov bowed deeply and with a murmur of regret, vanished into the crowd behind him. Diana felt a mad rush of delight bubbling in a froth of pity and rejection. A flush of color bit her cheeks and she instinctively sought a path calculated to avoid the query of any familiar face. She wanted to escape, to find some way she could let the tempest in her heart pour forth unseen.
Lord Malinov, Journals of Lord Malinov