The house itself seemed to be old, but after all was not very large; it stood amid laurels, and in the garden behind rose a great yew-tree.

No person was visible; but for the wave-like murmur of neighbouring pines, scarce a sound would have disturbed the air.
Godwin walked past, and found that the road descended into a deep hollow, whence between high banks, covered with gorse and bracken and many a summer flower, it led again up a hill thick planted with firs; at the lowest point was a bridge over a streamlet, offering on either hand a view of soft green meadows.

A spot of exquisite retirement: happy who lived here in security from the struggle of life! It was folly to spoil his enjoyment of country such as this by dreaming impossible opportunities.

The Warricombes could be nothing to him; to meet with Buckland would only revive the shame long ago outlived.

After resting for a few minutes he turned back, passed the silent house again, delighted himself with the wide view, and so into the city once more, where he began to seek the remnants of its old walls.
The next morning was Sunday, and he had planned to go by the Plymouth train to a station whence he could reach Start Point; but his mood was become so unsettled that ten o'clock, when already he should have been on his journey, found him straying about the Cathedral Close.