II.
While Mr. Marrapit at Herons' Holt was addressing to his household grouped about him his orders relative to the search for the Rose of Sharon, Mr. David Brunger at Bolt Buildings was entering the door marked “DAVID BRUNGER (Private).”
A telephone, a gas stove, a roll-top desk, an office chair, an armchair, a tiny deal table and a wooden-seated chair comprised the furniture of the apartment.
“For myself, I like severity and simplicity of surroundings,” Mr. David Brunger in the office chair would tell a client in the armchair. “For myself—” and he would waggle his head towards the side walls with an air that seemed to imply prodigal luxury in the fittings of “(Clerks)” and “(Office).”
Entering the room Mr. Brunger unlocked the roll-top desk; discovered the stump of a half-smoked cigarette; lit it and began to compare the day's racing selections of “Head Lad,” who imparted stable secrets to one tipster's organ, with those of “Trainer,” who from the knowledge of his position very kindly gave one horse snips to another.
At ten o'clock the large staff of trained detectives (male and female), mentioned in Mr. Brunger's advertisements, came pouring up the stairs, knocked at the door and filed into the room. Its name was Issy Jago, a Jewish young gentleman aged seventeen, whose appearance testified in the highest manner to the considerable thrift he exercised in the matter of hair-dressers and toilet soap.
Mr. Issy Jago sat himself on the wooden-seated chair before the small deal table; got to work upon his finger-nails with the corner of an omnibus ticket; proceeded to study the police court reports in the Daily Telegraph.
It was his duty, whenever he noted plaintiffs or defendants to whom Mr. David Brunger's services might be of benefit, to post to them Mr. David Brunger's card together with a selection of entirely unsolicited testimonials composed and dictated by Mr. Brunger for the occasion.
Also his duty to receive clients.
When a knock was heard at “DAVID BRUNGER (Clerks)” Mr. Issy Jago would slip through from “DAVID BRUNGER (Private)” to the tiny closet containing the cistern into which the door marked “DAVID BRUNGER (Clerks)” opened. Sliding through this door in such a manner as to give the client no glimpse of the interior, he would inform the visitor, with a confidential wink, “Fact is we have a client in there—a very well-known personage who does not wish it to be known that he is consulting us.” The impressed caller would then be conducted into “DAVID BEUNGER (Private).”
Between “DAVID BRUNGER (Private)” and “DAVID BRUNGER (Office),” on the other hand, there was no communication. Indeed there was no room behind “(Office)”: the door gave on to the roof. When, therefore, a hesitating client chose to knock at “(Office)” Mr. Issy Jago, emerging from “(Private),” would give the whispered information: “Fact is there's a very important private consultation going on in there—Scotland Yard consulting us.” And the impressed client would forthwith be led into “DAVID BRUNGER (Private).”
In either event, the client trapped, Mr. Issy Jago would skip into “(Clerks)” and sit on the cistern till Mr. Brunger's bell summoned him.
For the privilege of adding to the dignity of his single apartment by having his name inscribed upon the cistern cupboard and upon the emergency exit to the roof, Mr. Brunger paid thirty shillings extra per annum.