They were both glowing with the splendid air and exercise, and were just in that state of weariness that is almost unmixed physical pleasure to an imaginative thinker who contemplates a hot bath, a quantity of tea, and a long evening in a deep chair.

Frank still preserved his impassive kind of attitude towards things in general, but Jack noticed with gentle delight that he seemed more off his guard, and that he even walked with something more of an alert swing than he had on that first evening when they trudged up the drive together.
Their road led them past the gate of the old churchyard, and as they approached it, dropping their feet faster and faster down the steep slope, Jack noticed two figures sitting on the road-side, with their feet in the ditch--a man and a girl.

He was going past them, just observing that the man had rather an unpleasant face, with a ragged mustache, and that the girl was sunburned, fair-haired and rather pretty, when he became aware that Frank had slipped behind him.

The next instant he saw that Frank was speaking to them, and his heart dropped to zero.
"All right," he heard Frank say, "I was expecting you.

This evening, then....