He took a key from his pocket, opened the garden door and entered the verandah.

For a moment his shuffle sounded on its tiled floor, and then he entered the door admitting from the verandah to the House.

It was clearly unlocked, for there came no sound of a turning key.
Dickson had finished the last crumbs of his scones before the man emerged again.

He seemed to be in a greater hurry than ever as he locked the garden door behind him and hobbled along the west front of the House till he was lost to sight.

After that the time passed slowly.