It still was winter, being now the middle of February; but, as it happened, the air was dry and mild, and the sun was shining.
Still, he was surprised at such a time of the year to see an elderly man apparently asleep on one of the benches which are placed close to the path.

But there he was, asleep, with his two hands on a stick, and his head bent forward over his stick.

It was impossible not to look at the man sleeping there in that way; but Caldigate would hardly have looked, would hardly have dared to look, could he have anticipated what he would see.

The elderly man was Thomas Crinkett.

As he passed he was quite sure that the man was Thomas Crinkett.