"And Colonel Paton of Brooklands--he's gone too. The Bowden-Smiths have got his house now, and I have heard that there's a new party taken 'The Laurels'--a foreign gentleman, according to what they tell me." "'The Laurels'?" I repeated thoughtfully. "I seem to know the name, but I'm hanged if I can remember where it is." "Why, surely you can't have forgotten 'The Laurels,'" she persisted. "That little white house facing the estuary, away round the point." She pointed out across the green, to where the ground rose steeply behind the Gunner's Arms. "You can't see it from here," she added, "but it's almost opposite you when you're on the island." I could have leaned over the counter and hugged her, but with another masterly effort I managed to preserve my composure. "Of course," I said. "How stupid of me! The fact is I have been away so long that I've got a bit mixed up in my bearings." I stopped to stroke a large black cat which had jumped up on to the chair alongside of me. "So it's been let to a foreigner, has it?" I continued. "Not a German, I hope?" Mrs. Summers positively bristled at my suggestion. "I should think not indeed. I should like to see the Hun as'd dare to show his wicked face in Pen Mill. It's a French gentleman, sir--a Mr. de Roda and his niece; very good people, too, from all accounts." "I'm glad of that," I said gravely. "It's a great relief to know that one's got respectable neighbours." I held out my hand. "I must be off now, Mrs. Summers," I added. "There are one or two little things I have to attend to before I go back to lunch. "You'll be in again before long, I suppose, sir? she hazarded. "Rather," I said, "and the next time I come I hope I shall bring Commander Dean with me. It will be like old days--all three of us together again." I gave her a parting squeeze, and, resisting the temptation to break into a step dance, I turned round and made my way to the door.