"By the way, I saw one of the servants from the Pyramids here.

I hope the fool won't go home and frighten Lucy's life out of her." "Go to the Pyramids and see her," suggested Sir Frank.

"Mrs.Jasher is still unconscious, and will be for hours, the doctor tells me." "It is too late to go to the Pyramids, Random." "If they know of this new tragedy there, I'll bet they are not in bed." Hope nodded.
"All the same, I'll remain here until Mrs.Jasher can speak," he said, and sat smoking with Random in the dining-room, as the most comfortable room in the house.
Constable Painter camped, so to speak, in the drawing-room, keeping guard over the scene of the crime, and had placed the Chinese screen against the broken window to keep out the cold.

In the bedroom Jane and Dr.Robinson looked after the dying woman.

And dying she was, according to the young physician, for he did not think she would live much longer.
Round the lonely cottage the sea-mist drifted white and thick, and the darkness deepened, until--as the saying goes--it could have been cut with a knife.