And now, dear, I'll fill up your notification paper and leave you to superintend your unpacking.

Robert will give you any help you want." "What is the notification paper ?" asked Yeovil.
"Oh, a stupid form to be filled up when any one arrives, to say where they come from, and their business and nationality and religion, and all that sort of thing.

We're rather more bureaucratic than we used to be, you know." Yeovil said nothing, but into the sallow greyness of his face there crept a dark flush, that faded presently and left his colour more grey and bloodless than before.
The journey seemed suddenly to have recommenced; he was under his own roof, his servants were waiting on him, his familiar possessions were in evidence around him, but the sense of being at home had vanished.

It was as though he had arrived at some wayside hotel, and been asked to register his name and status and destination.

Other things of disgust and irritation he had foreseen in the London he was coming to--the alterations on stamps and coinage, the intrusive Teuton element, the alien uniforms cropping up everywhere, the new orientation of social life; such things he was prepared for, but this personal evidence of his subject state came on him unawares, at a moment when he had, so to speak, laid his armour aside.