"Did you bicycle?
Have something to drink ?" She made room for him on the seat and held out her second cigarette.
"It's your last," said Jack.
"I've lots more in the house." She watched him as he lit it, and as the last shreds of sleep rolled away, put the obvious question.
"You've news of Frank ?" Jack threw away the match and drew two or three draughts of smoke before answering.
"Yes," he said.
"Where is he ?" "He gave an address at York, though he wasn't there when he wrote.

I sent your letter on there yesterday." "Oh I did he give any account of himself ?" Jack looked at her.
"Well, he did.

I've come about that.

It's not very pleasant." "Is he ill ?" asked Jenny sharply.
"Oh, no; not at all; at least, he didn't say so." "What's the matter, then ?" Jack fumbled in his breast-pocket and drew out a letter, which he held a moment before unfolding.
"I think you'd better read what he says, Miss Launton.

It isn't pleasant, but it's all over now.