CHAPTER V.ON THE DYKE.
Neither had spoken again when their thoughts were turned aside from that story which Colville, instead of telling, had been called upon to hear.
For the man whose story it presumably was passed across the green ere the sound of the ship's bell had died away.

He had changed his clothes, or else it would have appeared that he was returning to his ship.

He walked with his head thrown up, with long lithe steps, with a gait and carriage so unlike the heavy tread of men wearing sea-boots all their working days, that none would have believed him to be born and bred in Farlingford.

For it is not only in books that history is written, but in the turn of a head, in the sound of a voice, in the vague and dreamy thoughts half formulated by the human mind 'twixt sleeping and waking.
Monsieur de Gemosac paused, with his cigarette held poised halfway to his lips, and watched the man go past, while Dormer Colville, leaning back against the wall, scanned him sideways between lowered lids.
It would seem that Barebone must have an appointment.

He walked without looking about him, like one who is late.