The Red Lodge: A Mystery of Campden Hill

It was a few minutes past twelve, and, being the day on which he was off duty, there was nothing to prevent him leaving the hospital as soon as he pleased. The prospect of a two-mile walk before lunch distinctly appealed to him, so, remounting the stairs to his small bedroom at the top of the building, he proceeded to change out of his white surgeon's kit into something a little more in harmony with the best traditions of a fashionable restaurant.

At exactly five minutes to one he passed through the revolving glass door of the Savoy and entered the already crowded lounge. Before he had time to glance round, a man, who had been sitting in the farther corner, rose to his feet and came forward to meet him.