He produced his map and showed the geographical advantages of Rickham. It had already good water and electric light. Its train service had been enormously improved, and it only needed the country round to be opened up. "Don't you see, Mr. Fourmy, it's your idea?" René had half-forgotten it. Casey explained, and showed the ring of little country towns round London, how they had come to life again, as markets, as centers, and how in many of them factories were being built and all kinds of people were coming out from London to live in or near them. Kilner was interested, and said to René: "So you think that is how things are going to work themselves out? It's an attractive idea, the country for food, a ring of industrial centers, and the exchanges in the middle of it all. Some sort of shape and design instead of the muddle we're in. It might even make room for the artist." Casey said: "When I heard you'd come in for some money I couldn't rest until I'd found what I wanted, and there it is. Will you come in?" "I'll go down and look at it," said René. "I'm quite certain I can't live in your Thrigsby or your Londons any more, and I couldn't live in the country without doing the work of the country." "Can't see you as a farmer," said Kilner. René promised to go with Casey the next day. . . . . . . He was enchanted with Rickham and with the yard. It had a small Georgian house attached to it, and the stables were built round a quadrangle with a gallery leading to rooms above them. Through the stables was a walled garden, and beyond that again a bowling green by the edge of a stream. The whole was freehold and wonderfully cheap. Rickham apparently was not yet awake to its glorious future in the English democracy in spite of its two cinemas, and the strong Liberalism of its opinions. It had one church and fifteen chapels, a Salvation Army barracks, and a public house every twenty yards. On the hill behind it villas were being erected, and along the valley little houses were being built for workpeople. On either side of the river just outside the old town the tall chimneys of factories were rising by the steel skeletons of new workshops. Clearly there was some truth in what Casey said. They undertook to buy the stables and walked into a lawyer's office to give instructions. So certain had Casey been that René would come in with him that he had already engaged mechanics in London, and written up to various firms to apply for agencies. They were bombarded with applications from the local builders to carry out the necessary alterations, and on the advice of their solicitor arranged a contract. Before any work was begun Casey insisted on having an illuminated sign, "Garage," fixed above the gate, and below it, the name of the firm, "Casey & Fourmy."