The three watchers would be put in the bag, and the men from the sea would walk into a neat trap.

This reflection seemed to take all the colour out of Heritage's prospect.

Peril and heroism were not to be his lot--only boredom.
A little after twelve two of the tinklers appeared with some news which made Dobson laugh and pat them on the shoulder.

He seemed to be giving them directions, pointing seaward and southward.

He nodded to the Tower, where Heritage took the opportunity of again fluttering Saskia's scarf athwart the window.