Chapter 47

Staring out of her taxi, Alathea recalled the publicity with her underlip caught in her teeth. And now, nearly a year later, when her wretched excursion into the limelight was being rapidly forgotten, her lapse was to be advertised, the most lurid incident of an unfortunate association was to be actually broadcast. More. The truth would be black enough, but that was not to be her portion. A pitched battle was to be fought before the world, and she was to play her part on the wrong side—_on the wrong side_. Truth, D…