But the instant that the captain had recognized a bunch of white marguerites in her belt he had, without knowing why, been moved to conceal his identity.
"He's afraid," whispered Blix.

"Positively, I believe he's afraid.
How absolutely stupid men are!" But meanwhile, K.D.B., the looked-for, the planned-for and intrigued-for; the object of so much diplomacy, such delicate manoeuvring; the pivot upon which all plans were to turn, the storm-centre round which so many conflicting currents revolved, and for whose benefit the peace of mind of the red-headed man had been forever broken up--had entered the room.
"Why, she's PRETTY!" was Blix's first smothered exclamation, as if she had expected a harridan.
K.D.B.looked like a servant-girl of the better sort, and was really very neatly dressed.

She was small, little even.

She had snappy black eyes, a resolute mouth, and a general air of being very quiet, very matter-of-fact and complacent.

She would be disturbed at nothing, excited at nothing; Blix was sure of that.