August 19th.
　　"And bang goes my holiday," said Superintendent¹ Battle disgustedly.
　　Mrs. Battle was disappointed, but long years as the wife of a police officer had prepared her to take disappointments philosophically².
　　"Oh, well," she said, "it can't be helped. And I suppose it is an interesting case?""Not so that you'd notice it," said Superintendent Battle. "It's got the Foreign Office in a twitter - all those tall thin young men rushing about and saying 'Hush³, Hush' here, there and everywhere. It'll straighten out easy though - and we shall save everybody's face. But it's not the kind of case I'd put in my Memoirs⁴, supposing I was ever foolish enough to write any.""We could put our holiday off, I suppose -" began Mrs. Battle doubtfully, but her husband interrupted her decisively.
　　"Not a bit of it. You and the girls go off to Britlington - the rooms have been booked since March - pity to waste them. I tell you what I'll do - go down and spend a week with Jim when this blows over."Jim was Superintendent Battle's nephew. Inspector⁵ James Leach⁶.
　　"Saltington's quite close to Easterhead Bay and Saltcreek," he went on. "I can get a bit of sea air and a dip in the briny⁷."Mrs. Battle sniffed⁸.
　　"More likely he'll rope you in to help him over a case!""They don't have any cases this time of the year - unless it's a woman who pinches a few six pennyworths from Woolworths. And, anyway, Jim's all right -he doesn't need his wits sharpening for him.""Oh, well," said Mrs. Battle. "I suppose it will work out all right, but it is disappointing.""These things are sent to try us," Superintendent Battle assured her.
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