CHAPTER TWOLord Wye, looking surprisingly fresh considering that he had gone to bed at six o’clock in the morning and had less than an hour’s sleep, gave the order to cast off.
The Officials and members of the Ambassador’s household, who had also risen to bid him ‘farewell’, stood in a little group on the quay and saluted as the sailors dragged up the anchor and started to unfurl and set the sails.
Lord Wye noted that one of the aides-de-camp was yawning and another was still unsteady on his feet.
He wondered why they had all stayed so late at what in reality had been a very indifferent ball and then chided himself for being uncharitable.
A ball was an event in this war-stricken land and he, satiated with the glories of Carlton House and the Season in London, had no right to criticise.
