“You had a pleasant trip to the south of France with your late cousin, I understand?” he remarked. “I wonder if you’d tell me something about it? I’ve just done enough traveling myself to whet my appetite for more, and the idea of the south of France absolutely fascinates me. What part did you go to?” “The Riviera and Provence,” Pyke answered, with a subtle change of manner. Up to the present he had been polite; now he was interested. “I can tell you, Inspector, that if you’re fond of travelling you should try those districts. You’d enjoy every moment of it.” “It’s not doubt of that which keeps me away. Money and time are my trouble. Did you get as far as Italy?” “Yes. I’ll tell you our itinerary if you care to hear it. We went round to Marseilles by long sea. A jolly sail, that. Then——” “Good weather?” French interposed. He wanted plenty of detail so that he could check the statements up. “It was dirty when we left Birkenhead and choppy in the Irish Sea. But it quieted down as we got across the Bay, and from St. Vincent to Gata the sea was like a mirror—an absolute flat calm without a ripple showing. Glorious! Then after Gata we ran into fog, which wasn’t so nice. But we got into Marseilles on time.” “Birkenhead? That’s the Bibby Line, isn’t it?” “Yes, we went on the _Flintshire_. Fine boat of 16,000 tons.” “I’ve heard those boats well spoken of. I envy you, Mr. Pyke. Then from Marseilles?” “From Marseilles we went straight through to San Remo. We spent three or four days there, then worked back to Grasse; that’s a small town where they make perfume, between Nice and Cannes, but a bit inland. I’m considering going into the flower trade and I wanted to see the gardens. A wonderful sight all that country must be with flowers in the season!” “I’ve read about it,” French assured him. “It’s one of the places I’ve got on my list. Flowers and pretty girls, eh?” “That’s right. We had a dandy specimen to show us round the perfume factory.” “I guess I’ll see that factory,” French declared. “Are there good hotels in a small place like that?” “We stayed at the Metropole and it was quite all right. Then we worked slowly up through Provence, staying a night in different towns—Marseilles, Nîmes, Arles, Avignon, and so on to Paris. I’ve got all mixed about the places, we saw so many. An interesting country that, Inspector! There are buildings standing there for sixteen hundred years and more. Wonderful! First chance you get you should go down and see for yourself. But don’t do it as we did.” “How do you mean?” “Don’t go from place to place, staying in each for a night. Stay at a centre. Avignon is a first rate one. There are day char-à-banc trips that let you see all these places and you don’t have the nuisance of packing and going to a fresh hotel every day.” “That’s a point, certainly. Thanks for the tip. Where do you recommend staying in Paris?” If Pyke recognised that French was merely pumping him he gave no sign, but replied, readily: