ten o'clock in the evening
Our host and hostess were sporting folk with red , weatherbeaten faces and a mania -LRB- which they expected us to share -RRB- for salmon-fishing in the pouring rain . As neither Barbara nor I were experts -- I always trembled lest a strong young fish getting hold of the end of Barbara 's line should whisk her over like a feather into the boiling current -- and as for myself , I prefer the more contemplative art of bottom fishing from a punt in dry weather -- our friends caught all the salmon , while we merely caught colds in the head . Many an hour of sodden misery was cheered by the whispered word of comfort : Jaffery would be home for Christmas . And when , at ten o'clock in the evening , just as we were beginning to awake from the nightmare of the day , and to desire sprightly conversation , our host and hostess fell into a lethargy , and staggered off to slumber , we beguiled the hour before bedtime with talk of Jaffery 's homecoming . At last we escaped and took the good train south . The Bolderos had already returned to London . They came to spend our first week-end at Northlands .