P ROLOGUE 5

Turkey before the blasted war. And we used to laugh
at 'em. Backward countries we used to call 'em. Pass-
ports!" Here he laughed, then tapped the young man
on the lapel of his blue serge coat. *'Never kept a rogue
out yet, never. Only wants a bit of cleverness. All they
do is to make trouble for honest men—fellows like me
wanting to do a bit of good to trade. Isn't that right?
You bet it is."

He then saw the customs officers, who dipped a hand
here and there in his two steamer trunks and three
battered suitcases.

"I expect you'd like to get away/' said one of thenij
beginning to chalk up his approval of the luggage.

Mr. Golspie watched him with idle benevolence, look-
ing quite unlike a man who has two hundred and fifty
cigars cunningly stowed away in a steamer trunk, "Not
this time. No hurry, for once. I'm staying aboard to
pick a bit of dinner with the skipper here." He waved a
hand, presumably to indicate the city that lay all round
them. "It can wait/'

"What can?" And the young man gave a final
flourish of chalk.

"London can," replied Mr. Golspie. "All of it."

The young man laughed, not because he thought this
last remark very witty, but because this passenger sud-
denly reminded him of a comedian he had once seen at
the Finsbury Park Empire. "Well, I daresay it can. It's
been waiting a long time."

Left to himself, with his cigars all safe, Mr. Golspie
ruminated for a minute or two, then climbed to the
upper deck, perhaps to decide what it was that had been
waiting so long.

He found himself staring at the immense panorama