She had passed her word, she said, and I must be a good lad.

It was impossible to burst the door, even if it had been mannerly; it was impossible I should leap from the window, being seven storeys above ground.

All I could do was to crane over the close and watch for their reappearance from the stair.

It was little to see, being no more than the tops of their two heads each on a ridiculous bobbin of skirts, like to a pair of pincushions.

Nor did Catriona so much as look up for a farewell; being prevented (as I heard afterwards) by Miss Grant, who told her folk were never seen to less advantage than from above downward.
On the way home, as soon as I was set free, I upbraided Miss Grant with her cruelty.
"I am sorry you was disappointed," says she demurely.