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By Root 495 0

could have tea. There was a drawing room (chintz), a smoking room (by some hidden influence reserved for gentlemen only), where the vast chairs were of fine leather, two writing rooms, where you could take a special friend and have a cosy little gossip in a quiet corner—and even write a letter as well if you wanted to. Besides these amenities of the Edwardian age, there were other retreats, not in anyway publicized, but known to those who wanted them. There was a double bar, with two bar attendants, an American barman to make the Americans feel at home and to provide them with bourbon, rye, and every kind of cocktail, and an English one to deal with sherries and Pimm’s No. 1, and to talk knowledgeably about the runners at Ascot and Newbury to the middle-aged men who stayed at Bertram’s for the more serious race meetings. There was also, tucked down a passage, in a secretive way, a television room for those who asked for it.

But the big entrance lounge was the favourite place for the afternoon tea drinking. The elderly ladies enjoyed seeing who came in and out, recognizing old friends, and commenting unfavourably on how these had aged. There were also American visitors fascinated by seeing the titled English really getting down to their traditional afternoon tea. For afternoon tea was quite a feature of Bertram’s.

It was nothing less than splendid. Presiding over the ritual was Henry, a large and magnificent figure, a ripe fifty, avuncular, sympathetic, and with the courtly manners of that long vanished species: the perfect butler. Slim youths performed the actual work under Henry’s austere direction. There were large crested silver trays, and Georgian silver teapots. The china, if not actually Rockingham and Davenport, looked like it. The Blind Earl services were particular favourites. The tea was the best Indian, Ceylon, Darjeeling, Lapsang, etc. As for eatables, you could ask for anything you liked—and get it!

On this particular day, November the 17th, Lady Selina Hazy, sixty-five, up from Leicestershire, was eating delicious well-buttered muffins with all an elderly lady’s relish.

Her absorption with muffins, however, was not so great that she failed to look up sharply every time the inner pair of swing doors opened to admit a newcomer.

So it was that she smiled and nodded to welcome Colonel Luscombe—erect, soldierly, race glasses hanging round his neck. Like the old autocrat that she was, she beckoned imperiously and, in a minute or two, Luscombe came over to her.

“Hallo, Selina, what brings you up to Town?”

“Dentist,” said Lady Selina, rather indistinctly, owing to muffin. “And I thought as I was up, I might as well go and see that man in Harley Street about my arthritis. You know who I mean.”

Although Harley Street contained several hundreds of fashionable practitioners for all and every ailment, Luscombe did know whom she meant.

“Do you any good?” he asked.

“I rather think he did,” said Lady Selina grudgingly. “Extraordinary fellow. Took me by the neck when I wasn’t expecting it, and wrung it like a chicken.” She moved her neck gingerly.

“Hurt you?”

“It must have done, twisting it like that, but really I hadn’t time to know.” She continued to move her neck gingerly. “Feels all right. Can look over my right shoulder for the first time in years.”

She put this to a practical test and exclaimed, “Why I do believe that’s old Jane Marple. Thought she was dead years ago. Looks a hundred.”

Colonel Luscombe threw a glance in the direction of Jane Marple thus resurrected, but without much interest: Bertram’s always had a sprinkling of what he called fluffy old pussies.

Lady Selina was continuing.

“Only place in London you can still get muffins. Real muffins. Do you know when I went to America last year they had something called muffins on the breakfast menu. Not real muffins at all. Kind of teacake with raisins in them. I mean, why call them muffins?”

She pushed in the last buttery morsel and looked round vaguely. Henry materialized immediately. Not quickly or hurriedly. It seemed that, just suddenly, he was