“If that's the case,” he thrust his head inside the cab, “you stay here, Santa. I'll go and find out.”
In a few minutes he was back. “They'll take us. Go inside and wait while I settle with the driver.” When he joined her at the desk, he found it necessary to make the same explanation that he had already made to the cabman. The night-porter had allotted them one room, taking it for granted they were married. He had to be informed that two were required.
“D'you want 'em on the same floor and next to each other?”
“On the roof if you like,” Hindwood answered impatiently, “only let us get to bed. We're, or rather I'm catching the eight-thirty train to London in the morning, and it's nearly daylight now. How about you?” He turned to Santa. “What train are you catching?”
“The same as you.”
“Then we might as well breakfast together?”
She nodded.
Turning again to the night-porter, he said, “Put us both down for a call at seven.”
The man was leading the way upstairs. As they followed, Santa whispered,
“You see, you were mistaken.”