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Old Isaac Bodlicott made no difficulties about coming to do repairs for the new tenants of the place. It was one of his pleasures in life to meet as many newcomers as possible. It was in his life one of the main events to be able to come across people who had not so far heard of his splendid memories and reminiscences. Those who were well acquainted with them did not often encourage him to repeat these tales. But a new audience! That was always a pleasant happening. That and displaying the wonderful amount of trades that he managed to combine among his various services to the community in which he lived. It was his pleasure to indulge in a running commentary.

‘Luck it was, as old Joe didn’t get cut. Might have ripped his face open.’

‘Yes, it might indeed.’

‘There’s a bit more glass wants sweeping up on the floor still, missus.’

‘I know,’ said Tuppence, ‘we haven’t had time yet.’

‘Ah, but you can’t take risks with glass. You know what glass is. A little splinter can do you all the harm in the world. Die of it, you can, if it gets into a blood vessel. I remember Miss Lavinia Shotacomb. You wouldn’t believe…’

Tuppence was not tempted by Miss Lavinia Shotacomb. She had heard her mentioned by other local characters. She had apparently been between seventy and eighty, quite deaf and almost blind.

‘I suppose,’ said Tuppence, breaking in before Isaac’s reminiscences of Lavinia Shotacomb could begin, ‘that you must know a lot about all the various people and the extraordinary things that have happened in this place in the past.’

‘Aw, well, I’m not as young as I was, you know. Over eighty-five, I am. Going on ninety. I’ve always had a good memory. There are things, you know, you don’t forget. No. However long it is, something reminds you of it, you know, and brings it all back to you. The things I could tell you, you wouldn’t believe.’

‘Well, it’s really wonderful, isn’t it,’ said Tuppence, ‘to think how much you must know about what a lot of extraordinary people.’

‘Ah no, there’s no accounting for people, is there? Ones that aren’t what you think they are, sometimes things as you wouldn’t have believed in about them.’

‘Spies, I suppose, sometimes,’ said Tuppence, ‘or criminals.’

She looked at him hopefully…Old Isaac bent and picked up a splinter of glass.

‘Here you are,’ he said. ‘How’d you feel if that got in the sole of your foot?’

Tuppence began to feel that the replenishing of a glass skylight was not going to yield much in the way of Isaac’s more exciting memories of the past. She noticed that the small so-called greenhouse attached to the wall of the house near the dining-room window was also in need of repair and replacement by an outlay of money upon glass. Would it be worth repairing or would it be better to have it pulled down? Isaac was quite pleased to transfer himself to this fresh problem. They went downstairs, and outside the house walked round its walls until they came to the erection in question.

‘Ah, you mean that there, do you?’

Tuppence said yes, she did mean that there.

‘Kay-kay,’ said Isaac.

Tuppence looked at him. Two letters of the alphabet such as KK really meant nothing to her.

‘What did you say?’

‘I said KK. That’s what it used to be called in old Mrs Lottie Jones’s time.’

‘Oh. Why did she call it KK?’

‘I dunno. It was a sort of–sort of name I suppose they used to have for places like this. You know, it wasn’t grand. Bigger houses have a real conservatory. You know, where they’d have maidenhair ferns in pots.’

‘Yes,’ said Tuppence, her own memories going back easily to such things.

‘And a greenhouse you can call it, too. But this here, KK old Mrs Lottie Jones used to call it. I dunno why.’

‘Did they have maidenhair ferns in it?’

‘No, it wasn’t used for that. No. The children had it for toys mostly. Well, when you say toys I expect they’re here still if nobody has turned them out. You see, it’s half falling down, isn’t it? They just stuck up a bit then they put