nd he stared about
the luxuriously furnished lounge with a look in which awe mingled with
admiration. Before he could advance further, a liveried porter of massive
proportions came up to him and barred the way.

"Now, now, my man," said the porter haughtily, "what do you think you
are doing here? This ain't your place, you know. You've made a mistake.
Out you go."

"I want to see Mr. Holymead," said Mr. Kemp in a gruff voice.

Verney's was such a high-class hotel that seedy-looking persons seldom
dared to put a foot within the palatial entrance. The porter, unused to
dealing with the obtrusive impecunious type to which he believed Mr. Kemp
to belong, made the mistake of trying to argue with him.

"Want to see Mr. Holymead?" he repeated. "How do you know he's here? Who
told you? What do you want to see him for?"

"What's that got to do with you?" retorted Mr. Kemp. "You don't think Mr.
Holymead would like me to discuss his business with the likes of you?
That ain't what you're here for. You go and tell Mr. Holymead that some
one wants to see him. Tell him Mr. Kemp wants to see him." Mr. Kemp drew
himself up and buttoned the coat of his faded serge suit.

The porter, uncertain how to deal with the situation, looked around for
help. The manager of the hotel emerged from the booking office at that
moment, and the porter's appealing look was seen by him. The manager
approached. He was faultlessly attired, suave in demeanour, and walked
with a noiseless step, despite his tendency to corpulence. It was his
daily task to wrestle with some of the manifold difficulties arising out
of the eccentricities of human nature as exhibited by a constant stream
of arriving and departing guests. But though he approached the distressed
porter with full confidence in his ability to deal with any situation,
his eyebrows arched in astonishment as he took in the full details of the
intruder's attire.

"What does this mean, Hawkins?" he exclaimed, in a tone of disapproval.

The porter trembled at the implication that he had grievously failed in
his duty by allowing such an individual as Mr. Kemp to get so far within
the exclusive portals of Verney's, and in his nervousness he relaxed from
the polish of the hotel porter to his native cockney.

"This 'ere party says 'e wants to see Mr. Holymead, Sir."

The manager went through the motion of washing a spotlessly clean pair of
hands, and then brought the palms together in a gentle clap. He