"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. He purposely exaggerated that restlessness
now, and purposely set against it words which Feversham had spoken and
which he knew to be true. Ethne Eustace would hardly be happy outside
her county of Donegal. Therefore, even had things fallen out
differently, as he phrased it, there might have been a clash.
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