She caught a butterfly, basking on a jimson weed, and, before she let it go, held it out to him in her hand.

It was a white butterfly.

He asked which was the butterfly.
"Bravo!" she said, tossing the captive craft above their heads and watching the small sails catch the breeze; "And so you can make little flatteries in the morning, too.

It is another courtesy you should be having from me, if it weren't for the dustiness of it.

Wait till we come to the board walk." She had some big, pink roses at her waist.