Ruff Single Quotes

She loathed her profile almost as much as she loathed the dress. If she didn't have to worry about people mistaking her for a boy--- not that they really did, but they couldn't stop remarking on the resemblance; at any rate, if she didn't have to worry about that--- she would never again wear pink. Or pearls. There was something dreadfully banal about the way the pearls shimmered. For a moment she distracted herself by mentally ripping her dress apart, stripping it of its ruffles and pearls and tiny sleeves. Given a choice, she would dress in plum-colored silk and sleek her hair away from her face without a single flyaway curl. Her only hair adornment would be an enormous feather--- a black one--- arching backward so it brushed her shoulder. If her sleeves were elbow-length, she could trim them with a narrow edging of black fur. Or perhaps swansdown, with the same at the neck. Or she could put a feather trim at the neck; the white would look shocking against the plum velvet. That led to the idea that she could put a ruff at the neck and trim that with a narrow strip of swansdown,. It would be even better if the sleeves weren't opaque fabric but nearly transparent, like that new Indian silk her friend Lucinda had been wearing the previous night, and she would have them quite wide, so they billowed and gathered tight at the elbow. Or perhaps the wrist would be more dramatic....

Why in the world would you sit down to play cards with gentlemen who freely admitted they’d heard about your reputation for losing at the table?” Nigel wrinkled his nose right back at her. “They heard I was remarkably skilled at cards.” “When you’re not drowning yourself in a bottle of brandy, which, I hate to say, is something I’m afraid everyone knows you make a habit of doing most nights.” “I was delighted to accept the invitation after their flattering words,” Nigel continued as if Lucetta had not spoken. “And was doing quite well, but then . . . I’m afraid I got overly ambitious and lost everything on a single turn of the cards. To my relief, Mr. Silas Ruff was incredibly gracious. When he discovered I might not actually have the deed to Plum Hill readily available, he offered me another way to honor my debt to him.” Lucetta suddenly found it rather difficult to breathe. “You sat down to cards with Mr. Silas Ruff?” “Ah, wonderful, so you do know him.” Nigel smiled. “He spoke most highly of you, my dear, and learning you’re acquainted with him makes this so much easier to say.” “Makes what easier to say?” “That Mr. Ruff is perfectly willing to take something in lieu of the deed to Plum Hill—something he seems very anxious to acquire. . . . That something being . . . well . . . you.