"So you're really off to-morrow, are you?" said an attractive voice. Well, don't miss Fuenterrabia. It's only five miles out of your way, and it's worth seeing. They sell most lovely scent in the Calle del Puerto. Ask for their 'Red Violets.'
With a chunk I was disconnected, and a second later a bureau clerk had promised to procure an English paper and send it up to my room.
Less than an hour ago we had arrived at San Sebastian—according to plan. A very handsome run had ended becomingly enough in the drive of a palatial hotel, and, though it was growing dusk as we had slipped into the town, we had seen quite enough of our surroundings to appreciate that, where Nature had succeeded so admirably, man had by no means failed.
And now we were taking tea in my sister's bedroom and discussing what
Berry called "the order of going in."
"We'd better decide right away," said my brother-in-law, "to stay here a week. It's perfectly obvious that two nights are going to be no earthly."
"All you're thinking of," said Daphne, "is the Casino. I knew it would be like this."
"All right," replied her husband; "look at the guide-book. We haven't seen this place yet, and there are twelve excursions—all highly recommended. We can cut out Tolosa, because I see we did that this afternoon. That was where the child lobbed the jam-tin into the car. I fancy I passed the cathedral when I was chasing him. Any way, I shall say so."
"I am told," said I, "that Fuenterrabia's worth seeing."
"It's the show place about here," said Jonah. "Old as the hills.
That'll take a morning alone."
I yawned.