The place was like a palace incognito.

There was no gold sign over the roof, not even an explanatory word at the entrance.

You walked down a small side street off the Strand, you saw a plain brown building in front of you, with two mahogany swing doors, and an official behind each; the doors opened noiselessly; you entered; you were in Felix's.

If you meant to be a guest, you, or your courier, gave your card to Miss Spencer.

Upon no consideration did you ask for the tariff.