the warm wood-paving, which was perfume to his nostrils as the din of its
traffic was music to his ears, before we came to one of those political
palaces which permit themselves to be included in the list of ordinary
clubs. Raffles, to my surprise, walked in as though the marble hall
belonged to him, and as straight as might be to the grill-room where
white-capped cooks were making things hiss upon a silver grill. He did
not consult me as to what we were to have. He had made up his mind about
that in the train. But he chose the fillet steaks himself, he insisted on
seeing the kidneys, and had a word to say about the fried potatoes, and
the Welsh rarebit that was to follow. And all this was as
uncharacteristic of the normal Raffles (who was least fastidious at the
table) as the sigh with which he dropped into the chair opposite mine,
and crossed his arms upon the cloth.

"I didn't know you were a member of this place," said I, feeling really
rather shocked at the discovery, but also that it was a safer subject for
me to open than that of his late mysterious movements.

"There are a good many things you don't know about me, Bunny," said he
wearily. "Did you know I was in Carlsbad, for instance?"

"Of course I didn't."

"Yet you remember the last time we sat down together?"

"You mean that night we had supper at the Savoy?"

"It's only three weeks ago, Bunny."

"It seems months to me."