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All houses of means had not only a maid but usually a whole staff of servants. It had evidently seen better days before being relegated to the ministrations of a hackney coachman, one who evidently served the less affluent inhabitants of London. She could not help but admit that she liked being smiled at and addressed in the hallways by hordes of friendly faces. They came teeming distressfully through her aching brain: “A man can kick, his skirts don’t tear; A man scores always, everywhere. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. ” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. " "Execrable villain!" exclaimed Jack.
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