Don't they ride faster than that ?" At this moment Tony with the hounds at his heels was trotting across the park at a huntsman's usual pace from covert to covert.

The Senator was certainly ungracious.

Nothing that he saw produced from him a single word expressive of satisfaction.
Less than a mile brought them to the gate and road leading up to Chowton Farm.

They passed close by Larry Twentyman's door, and not a few, though it was not yet more than half-past eleven, stopped to have a glass of Larry's beer.

When the hounds were in the neighbourhood Larry's beer was always ready.