They abstained, however, from interfering with Sally Salisbury.

Her ungovernable temper and her fear of nothing were well known.

If she once let herself go there was no telling where she would stop.

At this moment, however, her temper was under perfect control and indeed she was rather enjoying herself.
She rose, pushed away her chair with a backward kick to give room for her ample hoops, and curtseying low to the company marched out of the room without so much as a glance at her rival who was on the verge of hysterics.
Mistress Salisbury entered the ball-room, now tenanted by the dregs of the company most of them more or less stupefied or excited, according to their temperaments, by drink.

In one corner was a young man whose richly embroidered silk coat of a pale lavender was streaked with wine, whose ruffles were torn and whose wig was awry.