"I don't know, sir," said the porter.
"Find out for me, will you?" said the four-in-hand young man.
Then he turned round and saw me (again followed by my sidling employer) making my way towards the entrance.
He raised his hat in a rather empresse manner as he allowed us to pass.
"Oh, Miss—I mean, oh, Smith! Isn't he handsome?" breathed Million as we got out into the Strand. "Did you notice what a lovely smile he'd got?"
I said rather chillingly: "I didn't very much like the look of him."
And I'm going to try and stop Million from liking the look of that sort of young man. Fortune-hunters, beware!