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"
Another
jolly
evening
!
"
murmured
George
.
We
sat
and
mused
on
the
prospect
.
We
should
be
in
at
Pangbourne
by
five
.
We
should
finish
dinner
at
,
say
,
half-past
six
.
After
that
we
could
walk
about
the
village
in
the
pouring
rain
until
bed-time
;
or
we
could
sit
in
a
dimly-lit
bar-parlour
and
read
the
almanac
.
"
Why
,
the
Alhambra
would
be
almost
more
lively
,
"
said
Harris
,
venturing
his
head
outside
the
cover
for
a
moment
and
taking
a
survey
of
the
sky
.
"
With
a
little
supper
at
the
--
*
to
follow
,
"
I
added
,
half
unconsciously
.
"
Yes
it
's
almost
a
pity
we
've
made
up
our
minds
to
stick
to
this
boat
,
"
answered
Harris
;
and
then
there
was
silence
for
a
while
.
"
If
we
had
n't
made
up
our
minds
to
contract
our
certain
deaths
in
this
bally
old
coffin
,
"
observed
George
,
casting
a
glance
of
intense
malevolence
over
the
boat
,
"
it
might
be
worth
while
to
mention
that
there
's
a
train
leaves
Pangbourne
,
I
know
,
soon
after
five
,
which
would
just
land
us
in
town
in
comfortable
time
to
get
a
chop
,
and
then
go
on
to
the
place
you
mentioned
afterwards
.
"
Nobody
spoke
.
We
looked
at
one
another
,
and
each
one
seemed
to
see
his
own
mean
and
guilty
thoughts
reflected
in
the
faces
of
the
others
.
In
silence
,
we
dragged
out
and
overhauled
the
Gladstone
.
We
looked
up
the
river
and
down
the
river
;
not
a
soul
was
in
sight
!
Twenty
minutes
later
,
three
figures
,
followed
by
a
shamed-looking
dog
,
might
have
been
seen
creeping
stealthily
from
the
boat-house
at
the
"
Swan
"
towards
the
railway
station
,
dressed
in
the
following
neither
neat
nor
gaudy
costume
:
