He settled himself back in his chair, stretching out his legs and clasping his hands behind his head.  Jack had a good view of him and could take notice of his own impressions, though he found them hard to put into words afterwards.  The words he finally chose were “subdued” and “patient” again, and there are hardly two words that would have been less applicable to Frank three months before.  At the same time his virility was more noticeable than ever; he had about him, Jack said, something of the air of a very good groom—­a hard-featured and sharp, yet not at all unkindly look, very capable and, at the same time, very much restrained.  There was no sentimental nonsense about him at all—­his sorrow had not taken that form.

“Well, I needn’t talk much about Jenny’s last letter and what happened after that.  I was entirely unprepared, of course.  I hadn’t the faintest idea—­Well, she was the one person about whom I had no doubts at all!  I actually left the letter unread for a few minutes (the envelope was in your handwriting, you know)—­because I had to think over what I had to do next.  The police had got me turned away from a builder’s yard—­”

Jack emitted a small sound.  He was staring at Frank with all his eyes.

“Yes; that’s their way,” said Frank.  “Well, when I read it, I simply couldn’t think any more at all for a time.  The girl we were traveling with—­she had picked up with the man I had got into trouble over, you know—­the girl was calling me to dinner, she told me afterwards.  I didn’t hear a sound.  She came and touched me at last, and I woke up.  But I couldn’t say anything.  They don’t even now know what’s the matter.  I came away that afternoon.  I couldn’t even wait for the Major—­”

“Eh?”

“The Major....  Oh! that’s what the chap calls himself.  I don’t think he’s lying, either.  I simply couldn’t stand him another minute just then.  But I sent them a postcard that night—­I forget where from; and—­There aren’t any letters for me, are there?

“One or two bills.”

“Oh! well, I shall hear soon, I expect.  I must join them again in a day or two.  They’re somewhere in this direction, I know.”

“And what did you do?”

Frank considered.

“I’m not quite sure.  I know I walked a great deal.  People were awfully good to me.  One woman stopped her motor—­and I hadn’t begged, either—­”

“You!  Begged!”

“Lord, yes; lots of times....  Well, she gave me a quid, and I didn’t even thank her.  And that lasted me very well, and I did a little work too, here and there.”

“But, good Lord! what did you do?”

“I walked.  I couldn’t bear towns or people or anything.  I got somewhere outside of Ripon at last, and went out on to the moors.  I found an old shepherd’s hut for about a week or ten days—­”

“And you—­”

“Lived there?  Yes.  I mended the hut thoroughly before I came away.  And then I thought I’d come on here.”