"Take this card to Mr.Marsh, the jotmaster, and tell him the predicament we are in.

He will send vehicles." Smilash took the card and read it at a glance.

He then went into the chalet.

Reappearing presently in a sou'wester and oilskins, he ran off through the rain and vaulted over the gate with ridiculous elegance.
No sooner had he vanished than, as often happens to remarkable men, he became the subject of conversation.
"A decent workman," said Josephs.

"A well-mannered man, considering his class." "A born fool, though," said Fairholme.
"Or a rogue," said Agatha, emphasizing the suggestion by a glitter of her eyes and teeth, whilst her schoolfellows, rather disapproving of her freedom, stood stiffly dumb.