Perhaps they had been in the drawing-room at the same moment; perhaps they had passed each other on the stairs; at any rate they knew some of the same people.

They looked one another up and down with new interest.

But they could do no more than look at each other, for there was no time to enjoy the fruits of the discovery.

The donkeys were advancing, and it was advisable to begin the descent immediately, for the night fell so quickly that it would be dark before they were home again.
Accordingly, remounting in order, they filed off down the hillside.
Scraps of talk came floating back from one to another.

There were jokes to begin with, and laughter; some walked part of the way, and picked flowers, and sent stones bounding before them.
"Who writes the best Latin verse in your college, Hirst ?" Mr.Elliot called back incongruously, and Mr.Hirst returned that he had no idea.
The dusk fell as suddenly as the natives had warned them, the hollows of the mountain on either side filling up with darkness and the path becoming so dim that it was surprising to hear the donkeys' hooves still striking on hard rock.