It consisted of a close jerkin of brown frieze, ornamented with a triple row of brass buttons; loose Dutch slops, made very wide in the seat and very tight at the knees; red stockings with black clocks, and a fur cap. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. “But perhaps I want to confess them. At least I can’t talk to them. Good night. ‘Except Captain Roding,’ agreed the old lady, nodding at the butler.
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