"All. This is my only son," she answered in a communicative tone, Deronda's glance and manner as usual conveying the impression of sympathetic interest--which on this occasion answered his purpose well. It seemed to come naturally enough that he should say,
"And you have no daughter?"
There was an instantaneous change in the mother's face. Her lips closed more firmly, she looked down, swept her hands outward on the counter, and finally turned her back on Deronda to examine some Indian handkerchiefs that hung in pawn behind her. Her son gave a significant glance, set up his shoulders an instant and just put his fingers to his lips,--then said quickly, "I think you're a first-rate gentleman in the city, sir, if I may be allowed to guess."
"No," said Deronda, with a preoccupied air, "I have nothing to do with the city."

"Yes. This is my only son," she answered. It seemed natural enough that Deronda should say next-
"And you have no daughter?"
There was an instant change in the mother's face. Her lips closed, she looked down, and finally turned her back on Deronda to examine some Indian handkerchiefs that hung behind her. Her son gave a significant glance, and put his fingers to his lips - then said quickly, "I think you're a first-rate gentleman in the city, sir, if I may be allowed to guess."
"No," said Deronda. "I have nothing to do with the city."
