§ 8
But Bealby had not “mizzled,” although he was conspicuously not in evidence about the camp. There was neither sight nor sound of him for all the time they sat about the vestiges of their meal. They talked of him and of topics arising out of him, and whether the captain should telegraph to Lady Laxton, “Boy practically found.” “I’d rather just find him,” said the captain, “and anyhow until we get hold of him we don’t know it’s her particular boy.” Then they talked of washing-up and how detestable it was. And suddenly the two husbands, seeing their advantage, renewed their proposals that the caravanners should put up at the golflinks hotel, and have baths and the comforts of civilization for a night or so—and anyhow walk thither for tea. And as William had now returned—he was sitting on the turf afar off smoking a nasty-looking short clay pipe—they rose up and departed. But Captain Douglas and Miss Philips for some reason did not go off exactly with the others, but strayed apart, straying away more and more into a kind of solitude....
First the four married people and then the two lovers disappeared over the crest of the downs....