"And yet," replied his friend, persuasively, "even wickedness needs a beginning."
"Bot, if I begin I may not stop. Zomzing more qviet ze first night. Haf you a club?"
Mr Bunker pondered for a moment, and a curious smile stole across his face. Then it vanished, and he answered readily, "Certainly, Baron, an excellent idea. I haven't been to my club for so long that it never struck me. Let us come."
"Goot!" cried the Baron, rising with alacrity.
They put on their coats (Mr Bunker's, it may be remarked, being a handsome fur-lined garment), the porter hailed a cab, and the driver was ordered to take them to the Regent's Club in Pall Mall. The Baron knew it by reputation as the most exclusive in London, and his opinion of his friend rose still higher.
They joined a jingling string of other hansoms and sped swiftly through the exhilarating bustle of the streets. To the Baron it seemed as if a great change had come over the city since he wandered disconsolately before dinner. Carried swiftly to the music of the little bells through the sharp air and the London night that is brighter than day, with a friend by his side and a good dinner within, he marked the most astonishing difference. All the people seemed to talk and laugh, and for his own part he found it hard to keep his tongue still.
"I know ze name of ze Regent's," he said; "vun club of ze best, is it not?"
"In many cases the receipts for their escutcheons are still in their pockets."
Though the precise significance of this explanation was not quite clear to the Baron, it sounded eminently satisfactory.
"Zo?" he said. "I shall be moch interested to see zem."
As they entered the club the porter stared at them curiously, and even made a movement as though he would step out and address them; but Mr Bunker, wishing him a courteous good evening, walked briskly up to the hat-and-cloak racks in the hall. A young man had just hung up his hat, and as he was divesting himself of his coat, Mr Bunker quickly took the hat down, glanced at the name inside, and replaced it on its peg. Then he held out his hand and addressed the young man cordially.
"Good evening, Transome, how are you?" said he, and, heedless of the look of surprise on the other's face, he turned towards the Baron and added, "Let me introduce the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg--Mr Transome. The Baron has just come to England, and I thought he couldn't begin better than by a visit to the Regent's. Let us come into the smoking-room."