Ruby, the maid, steps forward an expertly mended and ridiculously expensive silk corset in her hands, "
Sirs, if I may."
Helen nods.
"
My mistress, Lady Fortingall was aboard the train. We think, well we think sir that they may have taken her."
A battered red haired woman in a decorated deer skin tunic and expensive skirt comes down a broad path supported by a native girl.
"
Ma'am," Ruby says with a curtsey, "
I cleaned and fixed your corset ma'am it gave me something to do, I hope you don't mind."
The redhead smiles and straightens up with a wince, "
Ruby, chérie, tu es une oeuvre d'art."
[ +- ] Translation
Ruby, darling you are a work of art.
"
Thank you mum," Ruby replies with a blush.
"
How are you feelin' this morning little missie?" Buford asks searching through his vest and pulling out a battered half smoked cigar.
"
I 'ave felt better Monsieur Buford," she smiles, "
but to be 'onest I 'ave felt worse."
"
Are you going to be able to wear that?" Helen asks indicating the corset. Dr. Long knows that the corset alone is probably worth more than a years salary to many of the people in the group he's talking to.
"
My current ensemble, she is a little what is word? schitzophrenic?" She smiles a little, "
Perhaps you and Ruby can try to get me back into it."