The distant Beech Walk looked black and grim and ghostly in the weird light.
A great clock high up in a windy turret struck eight.

A moment after the door of my lady's dressing-room opened.

A dark, shrouded figure emerged, flitted swiftly down the long gallery, down the stair-way, and vanished.
Ten minutes later Edwards, yawning forlornly, still in the entrance hall, beheld Miss Silver coming toward him with an anxious face, a large shawl thrown over her head.
"Going out again ?" the valet exclaimed.

"And such a nasty night, too.
You are fond of walking, Miss S., and no mistake." "I'm not going for a walk," said Sybilla.

"I am going to look for a locket I lost this afternoon.