In those few paces down the passage I had observed that he wore riding-boots and spurs, and that they were spotlessly bright and clean.

But from this moment I had eyes only for his face, which was ashen white and the more horrible because he was essaying a painful smile.
"My dear Rector," he began, "this is indeed a--a surprise.

You said nothing of any such intention when I had the honour to call on you in Plymouth, two days ago." "Good reason for why," interrupted Mr.Rogers.

"Look here, Whitmore--with the Rector's leave we'll get this over.

Do you know this coin ?" He held forward a guinea under the lamp.
I could see the unhappy man pick up his courage to fix his gaze on the coin and hold it fixed.
"I don't understand you, Rogers," he answered.