CHAPTER SEVEN
Cain’s Valley
“I
t’s
the friendliness of the village I like,” said Eager-Wright as the three paying guests of the mill walked across the heath that evening after dinner.
“That’s right,” said Guffy expansively. “You don’t get this curious clubbable atmosphere in many country places. What do you say, Campion?”
The pale young man in the horn-rimmed spectacles who was wandering along beside the others, his habitual expression of affable idiocy very much in evidence, glanced up.
“Oh, it’s all very nice,” he said cheerfully. “All very nice indeed. Let’s hope it doesn’t lead to membership of the oldest club in the world.”
“What’s that?” said Guffy.
“Club on the head,” said Campion promptly.
“In my present mood I should enjoy it,” said Eager-Wright. “She’s rather an amazing
