I myself acknowledge to have been fidgety and ill-tempered.

The cursed Moonstone had turned us all upside down.
A little before eleven Mr.Franklin came back.

The resolute side of him had, to all appearance, given way, in the interval since his departure, under the stress that had been laid on it.

He had left us at a gallop; he came back to us at a walk.

When he went away, he was made of iron.
When he returned, he was stuffed with cotton, as limp as limp could be.
"Well," says my lady, "are the police coming ?" "Yes," says Mr.Franklin; "they said they would follow me in a fly.
Superintendent Seegrave, of your local police force, and two of his men.
A mere form! The case is hopeless." "What! have the Indians escaped, sir ?" I asked.
"The poor ill-used Indians have been most unjustly put in prison," says Mr.Franklin.