Several people were passed out on the sectional sofa, and muffled noises emanated from other rooms indicating that the party’s embers were still smoldering, but John was nowhere to be seen. The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace. Of course, why not? She would be honest, anyhow! She turned her eyes to Manning. She softened her tone and scrambled for the right words. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall.
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