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Drummond, on observing a fat gentleman lying so calmly about the place, jumped back, as from a mouse. "What?" he said weakly, "... what?" Basil bent suddenly down and tore a paper out of Sir Walter's breastpocket, a paper which the baronet, even in his hampered state, seemed to make some effort to retain.
Of all this the hermit took no notice, but, hastening into the inner cavern, opened a small box, and took therefrom a bundle of papers and a little object which, at a first glance, Nigel supposed to be a book, but which turned out to be a photograph case. These the hermit put carefully into the breastpocket of his coat and then turned to his companions with a sigh as if of relief.
The rider, who was Venn, waved his hat in the air and bowed gallantly. "Diggory, give me my glove," said Thomasin, whose manner it was under any circumstances to plunge into the midst of a subject which engrossed her. Venn immediately dismounted, put his hand in his breastpocket, and handed the glove. "Thank you. It was very good of you to take care of it." "It is very good of you to say so."
"It isn't the same thing now that there is a stranger." "Ah!" A flame leaped into his eyes. He leant forward a little. "That reminds me I ought not to go without making a confession." He was taking a pocket-book from his breastpocket. He opened it, and held it under Nelly's eyes. There was a piece of blue ribbon there. She recognised it with a great leap of her heart.
As he turned around instinctively a ghostly hand snatched away his pocket-book and the sound of mocking laughter could be plainly heard from the dark cabinet. Another weird hand pulled Thomas Jones's insurance policy out of his breastpocket, dangled it in the air just out of his reach, and then flung it back at him.
When I drew something from my breastpocket, they did not move. "This," I said, "is the letter that was found on the Baron the night he was taken ill. Your husband handed it to me supposing, of course, I had written it, as it was in one of my envelopes, and he happens not to know my handwriting. But I did not write it. I had never seen it, yet it was sent in one of my envelopes.
I dropped the paper into the small firegrate, added the other from my breastpocket, and set them ablaze, and the new maid, entering, praised burning paper as one of the best deodorizers known. So my dainty rose-neighbor stayed; stayed all night, and all the next day and night, and on and on with only flying visits to her home over the way, until we were amazed at her endurance.
It was Shorty's turn to start, and it flashed upon him just where he had seen that squarish face. It was in an ambrotype that he carried in his breastpocket. He almost choked on the merrythought of the chicken, but recovered himself, and said quickly: "I have heard o' the place. Lived there long?" "Always, you might say.
Bowring was on a visit to two of her aunts, as I said before. I ventured to open her letter to her husband, found in his left-hand side breastpocket, and, having dried it, endeavoured only to make out whence she wrote; but there was nothing. Ladies scarcely ever date a letter both with time and place, for they seem to think that everybody must know it, because they do.
"It's the plain truth. But now, if Lord Ellingham refuses that offer, does your client intend to commence proceedings?" "Our instructions are yes," answered Methley. "Very good," said Mr. Carless. "Now, then what are these proofs?" Methley turned to his partner, who immediately thrust a hand in his breastpocket and produced a long envelope. "I have them here," said Woodlesford.
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