am as bad as Raymond himself: I mean, of course,
policeman.

But the London police are sometimes chary in the exercise of their
functions. What really started the woman on her way was his next brief
remark, accompanied by the hands, as before, though with a more decided
shade of propulsion.

"Scoot!" She went, without words.

These were the only American observations I heard from Raymond during
that fortnight.

I wish he had been as successful on the night of our arrival in London
when we encountered, in the court behind the big gilded grille of the
Grand Metropole, the porter of that grandiose establishment. We had come
together from Harwich and did not reach this hotel until half an hour
before midnight. We had had our things put on the pavement and had
dismissed the cab, and the porter, with an airy, tentative insolence,
now reported the place full.

"_I_ don't know who ordered your luggage down, sir; _I_ didn't," he said
with a smile that was an experiment in disrespect.

Raymond looked as if he were for immediately adjusting himself to
this--though I could hardly imagine his ever having done the like in
Paris or in Florence. He was quite willing to confess himself in the
wrong: yes, he ought to have remembered that the "season" was beginning;
he ought to have known that this particular season, though young, had
set in with uncommon vigor; he ought to have known that all the hotels,
even the largest, were likely to be crowded and have sent on a wire. The
porter, emboldened by the departure of the cab, and by my companion's
contrite silence, began to embroider the theme.

Now a single week in England had taught me that no two men in that
country--the home of political but not of social democracy--are likely
to talk long on even terms. One man must almost necessarily take the
upper hand and leave to the other the lower, and the relation must be
reached early. I resolved on the upper--cab or no cab. I glared--as well
and as coldly as I could. The fellow was only a year or so older than I.

"You are too chatty," I said. "Fewer words and more action. If you are
full, call somebody to take us and our baggage to some hotel near by
that is not full."

The fellow sobered down and gave us his first look resembling respect.

"Very good, sir. I will, sir. Thank you, sir,"--though he had nothing to
thank me for, and though he well knew there was to be nothing.

Raymond looked at me as one looks at a friend who surp