William is home earlier than usual.

Within the last hour, Susan has been thrice into every room.

Husband and wife are now watching at the window.

The good Fieldens, with a coach full of children, are expected, every moment, on a week's visit at least.
In the cafe in the Boulevard du Temple sit Pierre Guillot, the Chouan, and another of the old band of brigands whom George Cadoudal had mustered in Paris.

There is an expression of content on Guillot's countenance,--it seems more open than usual, and there is a complacent smile on his lips.