He was obviously distressed and uneasy, and found speech difficult.

His face glistened with the rain which had found its way, too, in long streaks down his velveteen coat.
His white hair was wind-tossed and disarranged.
"Bad night," Dominey remarked.
"It's to save its being a worse one that I'm here, Squire," the old man replied hoarsely.

"I've come to ask you a favour and to beg you to grant it for your own sake.

You'll not sleep in the oak room to-night ?" "And why not ?" Dominey asked.
"It's next her ladyship's." "Well ?" The old man was obviously perturbed, but his master, as though of a purpose, refused to help him.

He glanced at Mangan and mumbled to himself.
"Say exactly what you wish to, Middleton," Dominey invited.