A gleam of gas cut the darkness as it opened slowly.

We listened intently, but the interview was short and simple and inexplicable as an interview could be.

Our exquisite friend handed in what looked like a paper or a card and said: "At once.

Take a cab." A heavy, deep voice from inside said: "Right you are." And with a click we were in the blackness again, and striding after the striding stranger through a labyrinth of London lanes, the lights just helping us.

It was only five o'clock, but winter and the fog had made it like midnight.
"This is really an extraordinary walk for the patent-leather boots," I repeated.
"I don't know," said Basil humbly.