Jim staggered and stumbled like a drunken man: or worse, like a man with locomotor ataxia: as if he had no power in his lower limbs.
"Walk there--!" said Lilly, finding him the smoothest bit of the dark path.

But Jim stumbled and shambled, in a state of nauseous weak relaxation.

However, they reached the cottage: and food and beer--and Tanny, piqued with curiosity to know what the men had been saying privately to each other.
After dinner they sat once more talking round the fire.
Lilly sat in a small chair facing the fire, the other two in the armchairs on either side the hearth.
"How nice it will be for you, walking with Lois towards London tomorrow," gushed Tanny sentimentally.
"Good God!" said Lilly.

"Why the dickens doesn't he walk by himself, without wanting a woman always there, to hold his hand." "Don't be so spiteful," said Tanny.

"YOU see that you have a woman always there, to hold YOUR hand." "My hand doesn't need holding," snapped Lilly.
"Doesn't it! More than most men's! But you're so beastly ungrateful and mannish.