She had not turned up by footpath, road or rail.

He had been reluctant to make inquiries.

It would have set all the village talking.

The Fynes had expected her to reappear every moment, till the shades of the night and the silence of slumber had stolen gradually over the wide and peaceful rural landscape commanded by the cottage.
After telling me that much Fyne sat helpless in unconclusive agony.

Going to bed was out of the question--neither could any steps be taken just then.