She had to wait some minutes in an outer office, wherein three young men of spirited costume and appearance regarded her with ill-concealed curiosity and admiration. Also he had said—laughing in that way with his eyes which made a flutter in her chest— that Prudence will find an Englishman to marry her. “And yet you still live, Butterfly. She had nothing to say for herself. It wouldn’t be you. There were two. And you think I would marry you?’ ‘Why not? I am unworthy, eh? Because I am a servant. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back.
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