Yes, most decidedly, Cannes was the _point d'appui._

Right ho, then. Let me marshal my facts.

I went to Cannes--leaving Jeeves behind, he having intimated that he did
not wish to miss Ascot--round about the beginning of June. With me
travelled my Aunt Dahlia and her daughter Angela. Tuppy Glossop, Angela's
betrothed, was to have been of the party, but at the last moment couldn't
get away. Uncle Tom, Aunt Dahlia's husband, remained at home, because he
can't stick the South of France at any price.

So there you have the layout--Aunt Dahlia, Cousin Angela and self off to
Cannes round about the beginning of June.

All pretty clear so far, what?

We stayed at Cannes about two months, and except for the fact that Aunt
Dahlia lost her shirt at baccarat and Angela nearly got inhaled by a
shark while aquaplaning, a pleasant time was had by all.

On July the twenty-fifth, looking bronzed and fit, I accompanied aunt and
child back to London. At seven p.m. on July the twenty-sixth we alighted
at Victoria. And at seven-twenty or thereabouts we parted with mutual
expressions of esteem--they to shove off in Aunt Dahlia's car to Brinkley
Court, her place in Worcestershire, where they were expecting to
entertain Tuppy in a day or two; I to go to the flat, drop my luggage,
clean up a bit, and put on the soup and fish preparatory to pushing round
to the Drones for a bite of dinner.