“And think, think”—her voice sank —“of the horrible coarseness!” “What coarseness?” said Ann Veronica. “What are you two whispering about?” She turned towards Martin. ‘That’s my pet name. So I fear there's little chance of any one getting it. 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. That day Gerald had brought her to this excessively careful house, where she had felt very much alone and very unlike herself. The next few hours will tell. . The last time Pottiswick had called out the militia on suspicion of intruders in Remenham House, a large rodent had been all the spoil.
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