Thank you, Penelope." She looked round at me.

"Thank you, Mr.Betteredge." There was no moving her--there was nothing more to be said.

I signed to Penelope to come away with me.

We left her, as we had found her, sweeping the corridor, like a woman in a dream.
"This is a matter for the doctor to look into," I said.

"It's beyond me." My daughter reminded me of Mr.Candy's illness, owing (as you may remember) to the chill he had caught on the night of the dinner-party.
His assistant--a certain Mr.Ezra Jennings--was at our disposal, to be sure.