"Ja," answered Van; "at a minut's nodish. It is your own choice, isn’t it?” She nodded. A stiff, formally-cut coat of cinnamon-coloured cloth, with rows of plate buttons, each of the size of a crown piece, on the sleeves, pockets, and skirts, reached the middle of his legs; and his costume was completed by the silver-hilted sword at his side, and the laced hat under his left arm. The gentleman with the red beard will relieve you of your prisoner. He shall have the estates. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. Sebastian was always a man who felt the need to surround himself with the trappings of the finer life. .
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