This summer Charles Cameron faced a decision about which he had been thinking for several years, and that was his absolute retirement from the firm where he had spent so many years. To begin with, John Croce, the senior member of the firm had just died, and there was a change in the policy of the firm with new blood coming into it. Young Hubert Rascow, for example, the youngest nephew of he late junior partner, had taken a post of prominence in the office and declared rather pompously that he meant to go after lucrative criminal cases. The atmosphere was not what it had been and it would appear to augur a rather trying time of adjustment. Financially Charles Cameron was well off, and besides he had always intended to enjoy life to the fullest at a time when he still had his physical and mental faculties. This was assuredly as good a time as any.

He therefore gave his notice in May that he would leave the firm on what might be termed a Sabbatical at the end of June and he would decide when the summer was over what his future plans would be. He had reason to believe that he would not be greatly missed in the new order of things, but without making a final break, the door would still be open if he decided to return at the end of the summer. So, after standing all the members of the firm a final dinner at Simpson’ s, he betook himself to his little summer house and looked forward to enjoying the beauty of the countryside. A few miles from this sylvan retreat there lived a handsome divorcee named Mrs. Patricia Ellerby who, the last time she had met him in London, had given Charles Cameron reason to believe she would not regard it amiss if he paid her diligent attention. But it was pleasant to be by himself and make plans from day to day, to go on walks, to prepare meals at odd hours, and devote himself to many of the books he had always put off reading until now.