"Are you ill ?" "For God's sake, don't speak to me," she answered, and twisted herself out of my hands, and ran on towards the servants' staircase.

I called to the cook (who was within hearing) to look after the poor girl.
Two other persons proved to be within hearing, as well as the cook.
Sergeant Cuff darted softly out of my room, and asked what was the matter.

I answered, "Nothing." Mr.Franklin, on the other side, pulled open the swing-door, and beckoning me into the hall, inquired if I had seen anything of Rosanna Spearman.
"She has just passed me, sir, with a very disturbed face, and in a very odd manner." "I am afraid I am innocently the cause of that disturbance, Betteredge." "You, sir!" "I can't explain it," says Mr.Franklin; "but, if the girl IS concerned in the loss of the Diamond, I do really believe she was on the point of confessing everything--to me, of all the people in the world--not two minutes since." Looking towards the swing-door, as he said those last words, I fancied I saw it opened a little way from the inner side.
Was there anybody listening?
The door fell to, before I could get to it.
Looking through, the moment after, I thought I saw the tails of Sergeant Cuff's respectable black coat disappearing round the corner of the passage.

He knew, as well as I did, that he could expect no more help from me, now that I had discovered the turn which his investigations were really taking.

Under those circumstances, it was quite in his character to help himself, and to do it by the underground way.
Not feeling sure that I had really seen the Sergeant--and not desiring to make needless mischief, where, Heaven knows, there was mischief enough going on already--I told Mr.Franklin that I thought one of the dogs had got into the house--and then begged him to describe what had happened between Rosanna and himself.
"Were you passing through the hall, sir ?" I asked.