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. "His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. " "I will," replied Sheppard, dashing the glass from his hand. And Mother trusted him. Sorry I’m a bit late the first evening. Wood, the carpenter, who formerly resided here, is still living?" "If you feel any anxiety on his account, Sir, I'm happy to be able to relieve it," answered Kneebone, readily.
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