Mr.Yatman (between ourselves, a poor, feeble man) only shook his head and groaned.

Mrs.Yatman (that superior woman) favored me with a charming look of intelligence.
"Oh, Mr.Sharpin!" she said, "I am so sorry to see those two men! Your sending for their assistance looks as if you were beginning to be doubtful of success." I privately winked at her (she is very good in allowing me to do so without taking offense), and told her, in my facetious way, that she labored under a slight mistake.
"It is because I am sure of success, ma'am, that I send for them.

I am determined to recover the money, not for my own sake only, but for Mr.
Yatman's sake--and for yours." I laid a considerable amount of stress on those last three words.

She said: "Oh, Mr.Sharpin!" again, and blushed of a heavenly red, and looked down at her work.

I could go to the world's end with that woman if Mr.Yatman would only die.
I sent off the two subordinates to wait until I wanted them at the Avenue Road gate of the Regent's Park.