Hefoundthelittlematroninherroomindeepmourning；shookherhand，triedtotalk，andmovednervouslyabout。Shewasevidentlythinkingofthesamesubjectashe，buthecouldn’tbegintalking。
“WhereshallIfindThomas？“saidheatlast，gettingdesperate。
“Intheservants’hall，Ithink，sir。Butwon’tyoutakeanything？“saidthematron，lookingratherdisappointed。
“No，thankyou，“saidhe，andstrodeoffagaintofindtheoldverger，whowassittinginhislittleden，asofold，puzzlingoverhieroglyphics。
HelookedupthroughhisspectaclesasTomseizedhishandandwrungit。