“I drink your very good health, Sir John and Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “and I wish you a pleasant journey back to England. She was a small blonde, not handsome, but with a flair for fashion demonstrated by her elegant chemise gown in the very latest Canterbury muslin, with its low décolletage barely concealed under a fine lawn handkerchief set about her shoulders, and decorated with a mauve satin sash at the waist. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding. When she had finished the first tale, there was a sense of disappointment. "I thought I heard a scream. A lucky escape.
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