Page 14 - Another Twist in the Tale

“Where’d you find such a fing, Baggage?” demanded Birdy.
“You think Madam will let you keep her?” cooed Pearl-of-the-Night.
“Wha’s her name?” This was Cleopatra (Cleo for short: all of the Butterflies had inherited their names from long-lost predecessors – handed down to each newcomer along with the tattered silk gowns and glittering paste jewels of her trade.)
“Her name is Twill,” said Baggage, who had decided during the journey here that the little one deserved a proper name to call her own. “Cos when she stopped crying, she made the most lovely twilling noise – like a little bird.”
At this point we must suppose Miss Baggage meant a trill, but having received only the scantiest of education, most of it via Mrs Spanks’s Spoon, we should not judge her mistake too harshly.
“Twill Jones is her name,” said Baggage, as proud as any new mother. “And Madam must let me keep her, else what’ll become of her!”
The Butterflies were all in agreement but since all their lives were utterly at the mercy of Manzoni, and all were liable to be thrown out at her will, they privately had their doubts.
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