I bowed from where I was, and took Mr.Ghyrkins' outstretched hand.

He was in a good humour again, and called out to us to come and see him, as we rode away.

I thought to myself I certainly would; and we paced back, crossing the open stretch for the third time.
It was almost dark under the trees as we re-entered the woods; I pulled out a cheroot and lit it.

Isaacs did the same, and we walked our horses along in silence.

I was thinking of the little picture I had just seen.
The splendid English girl on her thoroughbred beside the beautiful Arab steed and his graceful rider.