\"Thanks for lending me the clothes. They had much to talk about, or rather Miss Prudence had. One of the coolies held the paper lantern. (What was the name he had given her that day?) He was walking beside the chair upon which appeared to be a bundle of colours. For every Eden, there will be a serpent; for every sheepfold, there will be a wolf. We come out into the world, some of us—” She paused. Spurlock sat limply, his arms hanging. “We have scarcely mentioned your name. This way there will be not so much shame, and the vicomte will let them remain. In after years you can return to your own country—to your friends. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground.
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