The overworked clerk was busy and querulously curt.

These women were always asking such idiotic questions.

Yes, Mr.Barker had just gone.
"With Mrs.Barker in the buggy ?" asked Mrs.Horncastle.
"No, as he came--on horseback.

Mrs.Barker left HALF AN HOUR AGO." "Alone ?" This was apparently too much for the long-suffering clerk.

He lifted his eyes to the ceiling, and then, with painful precision, and accenting every word with his pencil on the desk before him, said deliberately, "Mrs.George Barker--left--here--with her--escort--the--man she--was--always--asking--for--in--the--buggy--at exactly--9.35." And he plunged into his work again.
Mrs.Horncastle turned, ran up the staircase, re-entered the sitting-room, and slamming the door behind her, halted in the centre of the room, panting, erect, beautiful, and menacing.