That she had all the abstracted and nervous manner of one who is on the eve of some bold and hazardous step, which it has required no common struggle to resolve upon, would have been obvious to the lynx-eyed Fagin […]

And from Crabbe's own forehead sweat dripped or gathered into a kind of meniscus to be scooped off.

What you've got to do is, you've got to study the guy and try to pick up on his techniques, try to pick up what he's real good at.

'Bide the night at Heriotside,' says he. 'It's a thought out of your way, but it's a comfortable bit.'