But he cannot fail to turn up some time or other.
Our main hope lies just in the certitude that he must come to town sooner or later.

Remember he doesn't know that the butler is dead, and he will want to inquire for a letter.

Well, he'll find a note from Miss Moorsom." Renouard, silent, thought that it was likely enough.

His profound distaste for this conversation was betrayed by an air of weariness darkening his energetic sun-tanned features, and by the augmented dreaminess of his eyes.

The Editor noted it as a further proof of that immoral detachment from mankind, of that callousness of sentiment fostered by the unhealthy conditions of solitude--according to his own favourite theory.