AT THE BLAST OF A HORN The village was old and depressing.

Kenny, a conspicuous guest at the one hotel, awoke at noon to less imaginative interest in the wood, the farmhouse and the river than he'd known for days.

He had walked into his picture.

Now with perspective gone, he felt uncertain and vaguely alarmed.

Well, any quest that led to an inn like this, he felt, must in itself be preposterous.
The innkeeper proved to be a mine of general information.