He strolled to the window to look out. It was a perfect view. The slope of the hills on either side of the valley was almost geometric. Whoever had built this house had taken great care with its exact placement. There were masses of flowers in beds between the horseshoe driveway and the road. The tide was half in, but there was still a fairly wide expanse of sandy beach. The late afternoon sun made a shimmering band of light across the water. There was an old lighthouse on a small island beyond one of the headlands. He remembered that one could walk out to it at low tide.

He hunched his shoulders. If he could just ignore the hotel sign and the traffic on the road…

There had always been a funny feeling about the Cartref Hotel. Perhaps it had something to do with the name- home. And yet it was not entirely a feeling of homecoming he felt here, though that was definitely a part of it. He had always had a feeling of-nostalgia. He was not quite sure that was the right word. He had it now, powerfully strong. He felt the ache of tears in his throat.

Maybe it was merely curiosity, the desire to look back in time to see it all as it had been. Though he never had that feeling when he visited any of the other former family properties. Mr. and Mrs. Jones must be close to retirement age. He had found himself wondering lately-it was what had made him bring Allison here, perhaps-if they would be interested in selling. It was a foolish idea when his life and Allison's were so much bound up with their careers in London.

Sometimes he wished… Oh, sometimes he hated modern living. He hated the global village idea. He hated computers and instant communication, though, as Allison had pointed out when he had said these things to her, he would probably scream to have it all back again, if deprived for only a day.

"Wouldn't you like to live here for the rest of your life?" he asked now without turning. "Forget about the rat race? Bring up children close to nature and the ocean, away from the ugly pull of civilization?"