'Is it your granny's knock, Sam?' asked Wogan through the judas. The voice was that of Sam Wesley, a young usher in Wogan's time, one whom he had always liked and tormented.
The steps moved away, and the light.
'Sam!' whispered Mr. Wogan, very loud for a whisper, through the judas. 'Sam, you remember me. Nick Wogan.'
The steps were silent.
'Sam, remember Lord Clarendon! Remember Nick, who kicked the bully for beating your little brother Jack.'
The steps shuffled back to the door.
'You have not the password,' said the voice through the judas.
'Damn the password,' whispered Wogan. 'I want George Kelly. I must see him in the name of the Blackbird. Hawks are abroad.'
'It is clean against all rules,' came the voice from within.
'Open, in the name of the cobbler's wax I once put on your chair, or I'll break the windows. You know me, Sam!'