Wilkins's would
as soon have advertised two hundred bathrooms as two hundred bolsters;
and for the new Wilkins's a bathroom was not more modern than a
bolster.) Also, other hotels resembled Wilkins's. The Majestic, too,
had a chamberlain at its portico and an assortment of pages to prove
to its clients that they were incapable of performing the simplest act
for themselves. Nevertheless, the difference between Wilkins's and
the Majestic was enormous; and yet so subtle was it that Edward Henry
could not immediately detect where it resided. Then he understood. The
difference between Wilkins's and the Majestic resided in the theory
which underlay its manner. And the theory was that every person
entering its walls was of royal blood until he had admitted the
contrary.
Within the hotel it was already night.
Edward Henry self-consciously crossed the illuminated hall, which was
dotted with fashionable figures. He knew not whither he was going,
until by chance he saw a golden grille with the word "Reception"
shining over it in letters of gold. Behind this grille, and still
further protected by an impregnable mahogany counter, stood three
young dandies in attitudes of graceful ease. He approached them.
The fearful moment was upon him. He had never in his life been so
genuinely frightened. Abject disgrace might be his portion within the
next ten seconds.
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