It was a sultry summer day; all the study-doors were open, and all their occupants were absent in the cricket-field, or bathing.

He stole into Montagu's study, hastily got the key, and took down the box.
"O put it down, put it down, Eric," said Conscience; "what business have you with it ?" "Pooh! it is merely curiosity; as if I couldn't trust myself!" "Put it down," repeated Conscience authoritatively, deigning no longer to argue or entreat.
Eric hesitated, and did put down the box; but he did not instantly leave the room.

He began to look at Montagu's books, and then out of the window.

The gravel play-ground was deserted, he noticed, for the cricket-field.

Nobody was near, therefore.