“It is many years,” he said to the man, “since I stayed here. In fact, I have practically no recollection of Rouen except of this hotel and the cathedral. I should therefore be very much obliged if you could furnish me with a complete list of all the hotels where English people are likely to be found.”
“Why now,” said the man, “that is an exceedingly simple affair.” And he rattled off a list of hotels.
Westerham repeated them after him, but found he could not remember so many. Therefore he wrote them down.
“And you think,” he asked, “that this is a complete list?”
“Quite complete, I should say,” said the man, “for Monsieur's purpose.”
With a weary air Westerham rose from the cane-backed chair on which he was seated.
“I am sorry to have disturbed you,” he said to the porter, “but I must go in search of this lady at once.”
The man spread out his hands with a deprecating gesture. “It is still very dark,” he said, “and Monsieur will find the hotels closed. Moreover, I do not wish to be rude to Monsieur, all the night porters may not be so accommodating as myself.
“Permit me to help Monsieur,” he went on. “Monsieur will pardon me, but possibly this may be some romance.”
He shrugged his shoulders again, but with such an air of civility and respect that Westerham could not quarrel with him.