Willoughby turned to me.
“Got half-a-crown?” he grunted.
I had. The porter’s head-noddings redoubled.
Arrived at the door, we found a resplendent car, a chauffeur of the imperturbable order seated at the wheel.
“I’m very much obliged——,” Willoughby began.
“That’s all right, Sir,” said the man. “I’m going that way.”
We stepped in, drew the fur rug over our legs, and the car glided off.
“It’s a nice car,” said Willoughby.
“I understand that the chauffeur is a friend of the hall porter?” I commented.
“That is so.”