"I hardly know anything about London," he said.
The pale boy looked at him, pityingly.
"I've lived there all my life," he said, "Dormanter Gardens, in Bayswater—one of the best neighbourhoods, you know."
Tommy racked his memory.
"I was in London, at Christmas, with a sort of aunt-in-law," he said. "She lives in Eaton Square, I think it is—somewhere near Maskelyne & Cook's."
"I haven't heard of it," said the pale boy. "But London's so jolly big that it's impossible to know all of it, and I've spent most of my time in the West End."
Tommy was silent, but the pale boy seemed at home with his subject.
"I suppose you don't know the Cherry House," he continued. "It's an awful good place to feed in—near the Savoy, you know. Reggie, he's my cousin, takes me there sometimes. He always goes. He says there are such damned fine girls there. I don't care a bit about 'em, though."
The pale boy smoked contemplatively.