"Well, this is the last ride.

Let us gallop," and he let out his horse.
Feversham followed his example, and side by side they went racing down the sand.

At the bottom of the Row they stopped, shook hands, and with the curtest of nods parted.

Feversham rode out of the park, Durrance turned back and walked his horse up toward the seats beneath the trees.
Even as a boy in his home at Southpool in Devonshire, upon a wooded creek of the Salcombe estuary, he had always been conscious of a certain restlessness, a desire to sail down that creek and out over the levels of the sea, a dream of queer outlandish countries and peoples beyond the dark familiar woods.

And the restlessness had grown upon him, so that "Guessens," even when he had inherited it with its farms and lands, had remained always in his thoughts as a place to come home to rather than an estate to occupy a life.