But as he reached the edge of the cliff he groaned heavily.
"Are you hurt ?" Lady Angela asked.
"It is my foot," he muttered, "my left foot.

I twisted it in falling." Grooton and I helped him to the cottage.

He hobbled painfully along with tightly clenched lips.
"I shall have to ask for a pony cart to get up to the house, I am afraid," he said.

"I am very sorry to give you so much trouble, Mr.
Ducaine." "The trouble is nothing,".

I answered, "but I am wondering how on earth you managed to fall over the cliff." "I myself, I scarcely know," he answered, as he sipped the brandy which Grooton had produced.