’ Chapter Three Captain Hilary Roding listened with only half an ear to the long-winded report being given by Sergeant Trodger, his idle gaze wandering over the congested traffic of Piccadilly and the many pedestrians weaving a hazardous path through it. The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. “I wonder would you mind seeing who it is. Then you will begin to see. Other girls gathered around like sheep. She waited a few minutes, then greeted the burly doorman who stood as the building’s lone sentry. ‘Sapristi,’ he shouted angrily. Instead, they appeared to be at the hygienic level of tramps’ lodging-houses.
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