"Isn't that where some English people have a place? People called—er—Waring, is it?"
"Bairling," said I.
"Bairling. That's it. Let's see. I'm afraid it's some miles from Fladstadt."
"Twenty, I'm told."
"About that."
"And this is how far?"
"From Fladstadt? About twenty-three."
I groaned. "Forty-three miles to go, and a flat tire," I said.
"Now far's the next village?"
"Why?"