Not more than twenty minutes’ walking brought them to the gardener’s cottage. To Wolf’s great satisfaction the place proved to be quite out of sight of the manor-house on the Ramsgard side of the orchards and the kitchen-gardens. It stood, indeed, in Lenty Lane, a little east of the drive-gates, and turned out to be a solid little cottage, pleasantly coated with white paint, and approached from the lane by a neat gravel-path, on either side of which was a row of carefully whitewashed small round stones. Wolf for some reason didn’t like the look of those white stones. Once more he regarded Lenty Cottage. The idea of its excessive neatness and tidiness, combined with the idea of its being so long empty except for this one man, troubled his nerves in some odd way. What did it suggest to him? Ah, he had it! It suggested the peculiar lonely trimness⁠ ⁠… so extraordinarily forbidding⁠ ⁠… of a gaoler’s house outside a prison-gate, or a keeper’s house outside a lunatic-asylum.