“You go this way,” he said. “Right round the lake and straight on⁠—you can’t miss the path. When you get on it, turn to the left, and it will lead you to the village. You’re staying at the Cricketers, I suppose?”

“I am, Monsieur. Since this morning. Many thanks for your kindness in directing me.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Anthony. “I hope you haven’t caught cold.”

“Eh?” said the stranger.

“From kneeling on the damp ground, I mean,” explained Anthony. “I fancied I heard you sneezing.”

“I may have sneezed,” admitted the other.

“Quite so,” said Anthony. “But you shouldn’t suppress a sneeze, you know. One of the most eminent doctors said so only the other day. It’s frightfully dangerous. I don’t remember exactly what it does to you⁠—whether it’s an inhibition or whether it hardens your arteries, but you must never do it. Good morning.”