I told myself it was sheer silly conceit, that four or five of the cleverest people living, with all the might of the British Empire at their back, had the job in hand.

Yet I couldn't be convinced.

It seemed as if a voice kept speaking in my ear, telling me to be up and doing, or I would never sleep again.
The upshot was that about half-past nine I made up my mind to go to Queen Anne's Gate.

Very likely I would not be admitted, but it would ease my conscience to try.
I walked down Jermyn Street, and at the corner of Duke Street passed a group of young men.

They were in evening dress, had been dining somewhere, and were going on to a music-hall.