For the moment, Miss Rachel had completely unmanned him.

Judge from that, how fond he must have been of her! Sergeant Cuff and I were left face to face, at the bottom of the steps.

The Sergeant stood with his face set towards a gap in the trees, commanding a view of one of the windings of the drive which led from the house.

He had his hands in his pockets, and he was softly whistling "The Last Rose of Summer" to himself.
"There's a time for everything," I said savagely enough.

"This isn't a time for whistling." At that moment, the carriage appeared in the distance, through the gap, on its way to the lodge-gate.