'Luggage.'
He didn't seem as if he knew what to make of me at all.
'I beg your pardon, sir, what name?'
'What name?' I looked him up; I couldn't look him down, he was a size too large. 'Bring in that luggage.'
I don't know whether it was the power of the human eye, or what it was; but he didn't need a second telling. He nipped down the steps, took the portmanteau which the cabman was holding out, and deposited it in the hall as neat and nice as ninepence. While he was engaged in doing this another gentleman in the same rigging came sailing up to me.
'What name, sir?'
'Don't you know me?'
'No, sir.'
'Don't you call me "sir" again, or you never will.'
I turned into a room upon my left--the first there was to turn into. It was a good large room, but it wanted livening up. There was too much darkness about the place, and too much solidity about the furniture, to suit me. Footman No. 2 had followed me to the door.