“Who are you, sir?” said Garstin. “And what do you want?”
“Are you Mr. Dick Garstin?” said the old man.
“Or rather, elderly,” Garstin now said to himself, glancing sharply over his visitor’s strong, lean frame and broad shoulders.
“Yes, I am.”
The stranger opened a leather case and took out a card.
“Perhaps you will kindly read that.”
Garstin took the card.
“Beryl!” he said. “What’s up?”
And he read: “To introduce Sir Seymour Portman, please see him. B. V. T.”
“Are you Sir Seymour Portman?”