Her next question proved that my guess had completely failed to hit the mark.
"Are there any _young_ women among them ?" Mr.Farnaby, standing with his back to us thus far, suddenly turned and looked at her, when she inquired if there were "young" women among us.
"Oh yes," I said.

"Mere girls." She pressed so near to me that her knees touched mine.

"How old ?" she asked eagerly.
Mr.Farnaby left the window, walked close up to the sofa, and deliberately interrupted us.
"Nasty muggy weather, isn't it ?" he said.

"I suppose the climate of America--" Mrs.Farnaby deliberately interrupted her husband.

"How old ?" she repeated, in a louder tone.
I was bound, of course, to answer the lady of the house.