It had brought him to this staircase, and it led him next to a rack upon which hung several coats and a gentleman's hat.
He inspected the former and noted that one was finished with a high collar; but he passed the latter by--it was not a derby.

The table stood next the rack, and on its top lay nothing more interesting than a clothes-brush and one or two other insignificant objects; but, with his memory for details, he had recalled the keys which one of the maids had picked up somewhere about this house, and laid on a hall table.

If this were the hall and this the table, then was every inch of the latter's simple cloth-covered top of the greatest importance in his eyes.
He had no further time for even these cursory investigations; Hexford's step could be heard on the verandah, and Sweetwater was anxious to locate himself before the officer came in.

Entering the room before him, he crossed to the small group clustered in its further doorway.

There were several empty chairs in sight; but he passed around them all to a dark and inconspicuous corner, from which, without effort, he could take in every room on that floor--from the large parlour in which the casket stood, to the remotest region of the servants' hall.
The clergyman had not yet descended, and Sweetwater had time to observe the row of little girls sitting in front of the bearers, each with a small cluster of white flowers in her hand.