Poor Butterfly

You can at least put up a fight. If there are ukuleles in the world, there are also guitars, and to-morrow it may be you and not he who sits on the moonlit porch; it may be he and not you who arrives late. Who knows? To–morrow he may not show up till you have finished the Bedouin's Love Song and are annoying the local birds, roosting in the trees, with Poor Butterfly.

A Damsel in Distress. Chapter 7