Here was Romance; to be praised incognito; to enter a casual inn and find that fame had preceded him.

He warmed to the bagman, insisted on giving him a liqueur and a cigar, and finally revealed himself.

"I'm Dickson McCunn," he said, "taking a bit holiday.

If there's anything I can do for you when I get back, just let me know." With mutual esteem they parted.
He had need of all his good spirits, for he emerged into an unrelenting drizzle.

The environs of Kilchrist are at the best unlovely, and in the wet they were as melancholy as a graveyard.