“He was in the sitting room of his own apartments abovestairs, drunk. It was neither the place nor the time of day in which to be inebriated. And Lord Thornhill was not the type of man to let himself get thoroughly foxed. Especially at home alone during the daytime. Not that he was very obviously drunk. Apart from the slight dishevelment of his clothes and hair and his slouching posture and the fact that there were two empty decanters in the room, one on a desk and the other on the hearth at his... feet, and an almost empty glass dangling from one hand, he looked quiet enough. He was not dancing on tables or roaring out bawdy ballads. But Sir Albert, waved to a chair by a careless hand—the one that held the glass—knew his friend well. He was drunk. “Well,” the earl said. There was no slurring in his speech. “Is the deed done, Bertie? You have come here to celebrate? Ring for another decanter, my dear chap. These two seem to be empty.” “She accepted me,” Sir Albert said. He did not approach the bellpull.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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