cerned, phlegmatic, and apparently quite at home.
"If it's not stripping away too many of the wrappings of your precious mystery, Jimmie," she said, "may one ask a question?"
"Aye, why not?" he answered. "As long as it's sensible."
"Sensible enough," she retorted. "Where are we?"
"Just so!" said I. "The same question has suggested itself to me, limited as my intelligence is. For I don't know!"
Parslewe regarded us with calm eyes and manner.
"We're in the ancient and eminently picturesque and very comfortable Crown Hotel at Medminster," he answered. "Which stands in the Market Place, and commands a remarkable view of one of the last bits of mediæval England, as you can read in the guide books, and, better still, see for yourselves in the morning."
"Medminster," exclaimed Madrasia. "But that's where old Sperrigoe comes from! At least, that was the address given in The Times advertisement that Weech showed us."
