We must examine all the wardrobes in the house or none.

Send Mr.Ablewhite's portmanteau to London by the next train, and return the washing-book, with my compliments and thanks, to the young woman who brought it in." He laid the washing-book on the table, and taking out his penknife, began to trim his nails.
"You don't seem to be much disappointed," I said.
"No," said Sergeant Cuff; "I am not much disappointed." I tried to make him explain himself.
"Why should Miss Rachel put an obstacle in your way ?" I inquired.

"Isn't it her interest to help you ?" "Wait a little, Mr.Betteredge--wait a little." Cleverer heads than mine might have seen his drift.

Or a person less fond of Miss Rachel than I was, might have seen his drift.

My lady's horror of him might (as I have since thought) have meant that she saw his drift (as the scripture says) "in a glass darkly." I didn't see it yet--that's all I know.
"What's to be done next ?" I asked.
Sergeant Cuff finished the nail on which he was then at work, looked at it for a moment with a melancholy interest, and put up his penknife.
"Come out into the garden," he said, "and let's have a look at the roses.".