My dress is ruined." She spoke calmly, but her face was clouded.

From her manner during the rapid walk home Mr.Tredgold was enabled to see clearly that she was holding him responsible for the captain's awkward behaviour; the rain; her spoiled clothes; and a severe cold in the immediate future.

He glanced at her ruined hat and the wet, straight locks of hair hanging about her face, and held his peace.
Never before on a Sunday afternoon had Miss Drewitt known the streets of Binchester to be so full of people.

She hurried on with bent head, looking straight before her, trying to imagine what she looked like.
There was no sign of the captain, but as they turned into Dialstone Lane they both saw a huge, shaggy, grey head protruding from the small window of his bedroom.

It disappeared with a suddenness almost startling.
"Thank you," said Miss Drewitt, holding out her hand as she reached the door.