Ah, these English! They travelled all over, up and down the world, not to acquire information but rather to leave the impress of their superiority as a race. And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit. “Exceptionally so. They sat face to face beneath an experienced-looking rucksack and a brand new portmanteau and a leather handbag, in the afternoon-boat train that goes from Charing Cross to Folkestone for Boulogne. It isn’t. ‘Get the swords!’ ‘I’ll see to him.
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