But then he turns to Durdles, and bursts into a fit of laughter.

Durdles, who still has that suspended something in his cheek, and who sees nothing to laugh at, stares at him until Mr.Jasper lays his face down on his arms to have his laugh out.

Then Durdles bolts the something, as if desperately resigning himself to indigestion.
Among those secluded nooks there is very little stir or movement after dark.

There is little enough in the high tide of the day, but there is next to none at night.

Besides that the cheerfully frequented High Street lies nearly parallel to the spot (the old Cathedral rising between the two), and is the natural channel in which the Cloisterham traffic flows, a certain awful hush pervades the ancient pile, the cloisters, and the churchyard, after dark, which not many people care to encounter.