Jasmine Yale couldn't leave the Cheney Residence, not that she couldn't actually go out, but Butler Santana couldn't persuade her otherwise.
But she knew that if she disobeyed, he would be very angry.
The afternoon sun was bright and clear, and Jasmine Yale sat on the balcony asking Butler Santana for some wool.
"Miss Yale, are you knitting a scarf for Mr. Cheney?"
"Um, which color looks good?"
Jasmine Yale held the wool in her hand, comparing them: there was black, gray, red...
"Choose the dark red one; it looks good," suggested Butler Santana.
"I also think this one is nice; he has the other colors."
On the balcony, she chatted incessantly with Butler Santana, almost like mother and daughter.
Privately, Butler Santana treated Jasmine Yale as her own daughter; she liked Jasmine's unpretentious and straightforward character.
High society was full of intrigue.
And evidently, Jasmine Yale didn't harbor those kinds of thoughts; it showed how well Mr. Cheney had protected her.
