It was her pleasure to sail a boat in Bosham Creek and out towards the Island.

"Not a day of rain during the whole time." "I think that I might have a month then, don't you ?" said Hillyard, and Miss Cheyne opined that there would be no objection.
"But you will come back in a week," she stipulated, "won't you?
The Commodore will be here on Thursday, and there are things accumulating which he must see to.

So will you come on Friday ?" "Friday morning," Hillyard suggested.
Thursday was the day on which he should have travelled down to Rackham Park, but if he could finish his business on Friday morning, he would only lose one day.
"Friday morning then," said Miss Cheyne, and made a note of it.
Hillyard had thus a week in which to resume his friendships, arrange to write, at some distant time, a play, revisit his club and his tailor, and revel, as at a pageant, in the fresh beauty, the summer clothes, the white skin and clean-limbed boyishness of English girls.

He went through, in a word, the first experiences of most men returned from a long sojourn in other climes; and they were ordinary enough.

But the week was made notable for him by one small incident.
It was on the Monday and about five o'clock in the afternoon.