At Bertram's Hotel Read Online Free PDF

voice slightly as though to call Miss Gorringe's attention:
    “What's the telephone number here - 1129, isn't it?”
    “No,” said Miss Gorringe, “3925.”
    “Regent?”
    “No. Mayfair.”
    He nodded. Then swiftly he strode across to the door and passed out, swinging the doors to behind him with something of the same explosive quality he had shown on entering.
    Everybody seemed to draw a deep breath; to find difficulty in resuming their interrupted conversations.
    “Well,” said Colonel Luscombe, rather inadequately, as if at a loss for words. “Well, really! These young fellows nowadays.”
    Elvira was smiling.
    “You recognized him, didn't you?” she said. “You know who he is?” She spoke in a slightly awed voice. She proceeded to enlighten him. “Ladislaus Malinowski.”
    “Oh, that chap.” The name was indeed faintly familiar to Colonel Luscombe. “Racing driver.”
    “Yes. He was world champion two years running. He had a bad crash a year ago. Broke lots of things. But I believe he's driving again now.” She raised her head to listen. “That's a racing car he's driving now.”
    The roar of the engine had penetrated through to Bertram's Hotel from the street outside. Colonel Luscombe perceived that Ladislaus Malinowski was one of Elvira's heroes. Well, he thought to himself, better that than one of those pop singers or crooners or long-haired Beatles or whatever they called themselves. Luscombe was old-fashioned in his views of young men.
    The swing doors opened again. Both Elvira and Colonel Luscombe looked at them expectantly but Bertram's Hotel had reverted to normal. It was merely a white-haired elderly cleric who came in. He stood for a moment looking round him with a slightly puzzled air as of one who fails to understand where he was or how he had come there. Such an experience was no novelty to Canon Pennyfather. It came to him in trains when he did not remember where he had come from, where he was going, or why! It came to him when he was walking along the street, it came to him when he found himself sitting on a committee. It had come to him before now when he was in his cathedral stall, and did not know whether he had already preached his sermon or was about to do so.
    “I believe I know that old boy,” said Luscombe, peering at him. “Who is he now? Stays here fairly often, I believe. Abercrombie? Archdeacon Abercrombie - no, it's not Abercrombie, though he's rather like Abercrombie.”
    Elvira glanced round at Canon Pennyfather without interest. Compared with a racing driver he had no appeal at all. She was not interested in ecclesiastics of any kind although, since being in Italy, she admitted to a mild admiration for cardinals whom she considered as at any rate properly picturesque.
    Canon Pennyfather's face cleared and he nodded his head appreciatively. He had recognized where he was. In Bertram's Hotel, of course; where he was going to spend the night on his way to - now where was he on his way to? Chadminster? No, no, he had just come from Chadminster. He was going to - of course - to the Congress at Lucerne. He stepped forward, beaming, to the reception desk and was greeted warmly by Miss Gorringe.
    “So glad to see you, Canon Pennyfather. How well you are looking.”
    “Thank you - thank you - I had a severe cold last week but I've got over it now. You have a room for me. I did write?”
    Miss Gorringe reassured him.
    “Oh yes, Canon Pennyfather, we got your letter. We've reserved No. Nineteen for you, the room you had last time.”
    “Thank you - thank you. For - let me see - I shall want it for four days. Actually I am going to Lucerne and shall be away for one night, but please keep the room. I shall leave most of my things here and only take a small bag to Switzerland. There won't be any difficulty over that?”
    Again Miss Gorringe reassured him. “Everything's going to be quite all right. You explained very clearly in your letter.”
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