Isabel's licence was not among them.
Next he began to open the books and shake them, pausing now and again as a page of figures caught his eye.
"Accounts seem in order, down to the petty cash." He stooped, picked up and opened a small parcel of coin wrapped in paper, which his elbow had brushed off the ledge.

"Fifteen and ninepence--right, to a penny.

But where in the world's that licence ?" There were drawers in the lower half of the bookcase, and he directed me to search in these while he hunted again through the bureau.
And while we were thus occupied the door opened and Miss Belcher re-entered the room with Mr.Rogers at her heels.

Had it been possible to associate tears with Miss Belcher, I could have sworn she had been weeping.

Her first words, and the ringing masculine tone of them, effaced that half-formed impression.
"What the dickens are you two about ?" "We are searching for a licence," the Rector answered.