She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night. Ennison’s manner was certainly not one of a willing host. The train, meantime, had passed Marylebone Lane, when it again paused for a moment, at Jack's request, near the door of a public-house called the City of Oxford. ’ ‘You ain’t never!’ ‘Back to your post, Trodger,’ ordered the harassed captain. Jack tried it, and found it locked. You forget all the mass of training and tradition and instinct that go to make him a tolerable master.
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