Surely that sinister-looking person should be forced to give an account of himself instead of, as was probable, being allowed to instill further nonsense into the suspicious mind of P.C.

Robinson.
There were two morning deliveries of London letters in Steynholme, one at eight and another at half past ten.

Grant waited until the postman had left a publisher's circular (the only letter for The Hollies by the second mail).

Then, in a fever of impatience, he jammed on a hat and went out.

He would wait no longer.