At last, as the sun began to sink, faint and weary, she decided the orchard house would be the best place.

There, if there was any news of an accident, Sarah Porrit, the Professor's one female servant, would have heard it.
She started straight across the park, carrying her heavy bag, and crossed the beech avenue, and so on to the trysting tree.

A cold feeling like some extra disquietude seemed to overcome her as she neared the haw-haw and the copse.

It was as if she feared and yet longed to get there.

But she resisted the temptation, and went straight on to the little gate and so up the garden to the house.
Mrs.Porrit received her with her usual kindly greeting.