"I won't trouble to exchange any farewells--not because of Ransford's hint, but because there's no need.
If Ransford thinks he's going to drive me out of Wrychester before I choose to go he's badly mistaken--it'll be time enough to say farewell when I take my departure--and that won't be just yet.

Now I wonder who that old chap was?
Knew some one of Ransford's name once, did he?
Probably Ransford himself--in which case he knows more of Ransford than anybody in Wrychester knows--for nobody in Wrychester knows anything beyond a few years back.

No, Dr.Ransford!--no farewells--to anybody! A mere departure--till I turn up again." But Bryce was not to get away from the old house without something in the nature of a farewell.

As he walked out of the surgery by the side entrance, Mary Bewery, who had just parted from young Bonham in the garden and was about to visit her dogs in the stable yard, came along: she and Bryce met, face to face.

The girl flushed, not so much from embarrassment as from vexation; Bryce, cool as ever, showed no sign of any embarrassment.