“That is it.”
“I say, Sir Donald, d’you mind my asking for a whisky-and-soda?”
“I beg your pardon.”
He hastily touched a bell and ordered it. Meanwhile Carey examined the photograph.
“What do you think of it?” Sir Donald asked.
“Well—Italy obviously.”
“Yes, and a conventional part of Italy.”
“Maggiore?”
“No, Como.”
“The playground of the honeymoon couple.”