"There was some one watching on the Bridge ... two men."
Stephen sighed with a profound weariness.
"It can't be helped," he said.
A dreadful paralysis seemed to have succeeded the heavy strain. He
looked as the men used to look after a long spell in the line, sitting
at last in a dingy billet--played out.
John Egerton took the sculls and turned the boat round. The boat moved
stiffly, with a steady gurgle at the bows; the noiseless tide swung
violently by; the oars creaked complainingly.
"This _tide_ ..." muttered John.
Stephen Byrne raised his head. "The tide's going out," he said
stupidly.