There had been something almost pleasing about unrolling the food wrapped up at supper on the previous night, and eating it, with or without cooking, all alone; but there was something astonishingly unpleasant in observing sardines that were now common property lying in greasy newspaper, a lump of bread from which their hands tore pieces, and a tin bowl of warmish cocoa from which all must drink.

This last detail was a contribution on the part of Major and Mrs.
Trustcott, and it would have been ungracious to refuse.

The Major, too, was sullen and resentful this morning, and growled at Gertie more than once.
Even the weather seemed unpropitious as they set out together again soon after six.

Rain had fallen in the night, yet not all the rain that there was overhead.

There were still clouds hanging, mixed with the smoke from the chimneys; the hedges seemed dulled and black in spite of their green; the cinder path they walked on was depressing, the rain-fed road even more so.