According to Lucilla, this comtesse had constituted herself something of a social leader in the rapidly growing assemblage of refugees, and would undoubtedly be ready to introduce an eligible bachelor appropriately. She turned to Martha as the lad exited by the back door, but her nurse forestalled anything she might have said. Be seated, and calm yourself. Forgive me. It is not every sort of creature needs—these males. ’” She played “If I Were a Rich Man,” adding syrupy trills and flourishes at every phrase. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. “Rather darker than most of them.
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