"Yes, a quaint old spot," said Camber. "I thought at one time, because
of the name of the house, that it might have been part of a monastery
or convent. This was not the case, however. It derives its name from a
certain Sir Jaspar Guest, who flourished, I believe, under King Charles
of merry memory."

"Nevertheless," I added, "the Guest House is a charming survival of
more spacious days."

"True," returned Colin Camber, gravely. "Here it is possible to lead
one's own life, away from the noisy world," he sighed again wearily.
"Yes, I shall regret leaving the Guest House."

"What! You are leaving?"

"I am leaving as soon as I can find another residence, suited both to
my requirements and to my slender purse. But these domestic affairs can
be of no possible interest to you. I take it, Mr. Knox, that you will
grant my wife and myself the pleasure of your company at lunch?"

"Many thanks," I replied, "but really I must return to Cray's Folly."

As I spoke the words I had moved a little ahead at a point where the
path was overgrown by a rose bush, for the garden was somewhat
neglected.

"You will quite understand," I said, and turned.

Never can I forget the spectacle which I beheld.