"I am twenty," said the girl. Her father’s peculiar stiffness of soul presented itself now as something altogether left out of the calculations upon which her plans were based, and, in particular, she had not anticipated the difficulty she would find in borrowing the forty pounds she needed for Ramage. There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity. He was still thickly clad in jeans. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. "My son! my dear, dear son!" returned Mrs. " "He couldn't help it, Ruth. —'How so?' says I.
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