Mr.Alwynn's flushed a deep red.

He sat with his eyes on the ground, the paper in his hand trembling a little.
Indignation against Dare, pity for him, anxiety not to judge him harshly, struggled for precedence in his kind heart, still beating tumultuously with the shock of Dare's first admission.

He felt rather than saw him take the paper out of his hand.
"I shall keep this," Dare said, putting it in his pocket-book; and then, turning to the woman again, he said, with an oath, "Will you go, or will you wait till you are turned out ?" "I'll wait," she replied, undauntedly.

"I like the place well enough." She laughed and took up her work, and, after looking at her for a moment, he flung out of the room, followed by Mr.Alwynn.
The defeat was complete; nay, it was a rout.
The dog-cart was still standing at the door.

The butler was talking to the groom; the gardener was training some new shoots of ivy against the stone balustrade.
Dare caught up his hat and gloves, and ordered that his portmanteau, which had been taken into the hall, should be put back into the dog-cart.