Suddenly, however, he started, tapped me on the shoulder, and pointed over the meadows.
"Look there!" said he.
A heavily timbered park stretched up in a gentle slope, thickening into a grove at the highest point.

From amid the branches there jutted out the grey gables and high roof-tree of a very old mansion.
"Stoke Moran ?" said he.
"Yes, sir, that be the house of Dr.Grimesby Roylott," remarked the driver.
"There is some building going on there," said Holmes; "that is where we are going." "There's the village," said the driver, pointing to a cluster of roofs some distance to the left; "but if you want to get to the house, you'll find it shorter to get over this stile, and so by the foot-path over the fields.

There it is, where the lady is walking." "And the lady, I fancy, is Miss Stoner," observed Holmes, shading his eyes.

"Yes, I think we had better do as you suggest." We got off, paid our fare, and the trap rattled back on its way to Leatherhead.
"I thought it as well," said Holmes as we climbed the stile, "that this fellow should think we had come here as architects, or on some definite business.

It may stop his gossip.
Good-afternoon, Miss Stoner.