Slowly they turned into the gay card-room, where the orchestra played to the gamesters and an Italian singer's voice rose above the murmur of talk.
My lord spoke again, with utter weariness in his voice.
"As you say, we cannot converse here. To-morrow I will wait on you and on my lady; perhaps I can a little justify myself."
She would not look at him.
"Ah, Rose, what do you care about justifying yourself to me? As for my lady, I think she will be pleased."
"I have confessed to you," he answered. "I have told you I do what comes, being in no way heroic or noble." He paused.
"You are going now," she said. "I cannot bear to listen to you here."
"Yes, I will get away from these people. I came only to meet you; I feel fatigued."
She saw Miss Westbrook approaching, and gave Lyndwood her hand. "To-morrow then we meet, and you will write to Marius?"