"What man?"
"His name's Letcher—at least—"
"I don't know the name."
"He was one of the soldiers on the beach this evening."
"The devil!"
"But he hadn't come about that business."
"About what, then?"
"Well now, sir, I must ask you a question. They were talking about 'the beauty down at the cottage.' Who would that be?"
"That," said he slowly, "would be Isabel Brooks, for a certainty."
"And the cottage?"