entials! He took breath.

In its physical aspects Wilkins's appeared to him to resemble other
hotels--such as the Majestic. And so far he was not mistaken. Once
Wilkins's had not resembled other hotels. For many years it had
deliberately refused to recognize that even the nineteenth century
had dawned, and its magnificent antique discomfort had been one of its
main attractions to the elect. For the elect desired nothing but their
own privileged society in order to be happy in a hotel. A hip-bath
on a blanket in the middle of the bedroom floor richly sufficed them,
provided they could be guaranteed against the calamity of meeting the
unelect in the corridors or at _table d'hote_. But the rising waters
of democracy--the intermixture of classes--had reacted adversely on
Wilkins's. The fall of the Emperor Maximilian of Mexico had given
Wilkins's sad food for thought long, long ago, and the obvious general
weakening of the monarchical principle had most considerably shaken
it. Came the day when Wilkins's reluctantly decided that even it could
not fight against the tendency of the whole world, and then, at one
superb stroke, it had rebuilt and brought itself utterly up-to-date.

Thus it resembled other hotels. (Save, possibly, in the reticence
of its advertisements! The Majestic would advertise bathrooms as a
miracle of modernity, just as though common dwelling-houses had
not possessed bathrooms for the past thirty years. Wilkins's had
superlative bathrooms, but it said nothing about them. Wilkins's would
as soon have advertised two hundred bathrooms as two hundred bolsters;
and for the new Wilkins's a bathroom was not more modern than a
bolster.) Also, other hotels resembled Wilkins's. The Majestic, too,
had a chamberlain at its portico and an assortment of pages to prove
to its clients that they were incapable of performing the simplest act
for themselves. Nevertheless, the difference between Wilkins's and
the Majestic was enormous; and yet so subtle was it that Edward Henry
could not immediately detect where it resided. Then he understood. The
difference between Wilkins's and the Majestic resided in the theory
which underlay its manner. And the theory was that every person
entering its walls was of royal blood until he had admitted the
contrary.

Within the hotel it was already night.

Edward Henry self-consciously crossed the illuminated hall, which was
dotted with fashionable figures. He knew not whither he was going