'Because both of 'em's 'ere.'
'Good God! How d'you know?'
'And what's more, my girl, they're together! They're chums!'
'They're not!'
'Oh, yes they are!'
Mr Buggage told her how he knew. 'There they are,' he said, pointing with a fork whose prongs were yellow with mayonnaise. 'Those two fat old broads talkin' to the tall man and the woman.'
Miss Tottle stared, fascinated. 'You know,' she said, 'I've never actually seen a client of ours in the flesh before, not in all the years we've been in business.'
'Nor me,' Mr Buggage said. 'One thing's for sure. I picked 'em right, didn't I? They're rolling in it. That's obvious. And they're stupid. That's even more obvious.'
'Do you think it could be dangerous, Billy, the two of them knowing each other?'
'It's a bloody queer coincidence,' Mr Buggage said, 'but I don't think it's dangerous. Neither of 'em's ever goin' to say a word. That's the beauty of it.'
'I guess you're right.'
'The only possible danger,' Mr Buggage said, 'would be if they saw my name on the register. I got a very unusual name just like theirs. It would ring bells at once.'
'Guests don't see the register,' Miss Tottle said.
'No, they don't,' Mr Buggage said. 'No one's ever goin' to bother us. They never 'as and they never will.'
'Amazing lobster,' Miss Tottle said. 'Lobster is sex food,' Mr Buggage announced, eating more of it.
'You're thinking of oysters, lover.'
'I am not thinking of oysters. Oysters is sex food, too, but lobsters is stronger. A dish of lobsters can drive some people crazy.'
'Like you, perhaps?' she said, wriggling her rump in the chair.
'Maybe,' Mr Buggage said. 'We shall just 'ave to wait and see about that, won't we, pet?'
'Yes,' she said.
'It's a good thing they're so expensive,' Mr Buggage said. 'If every Tom, Dick and 'Arry could afford to buy 'em, the We world would be full of sex maniacs.'
'Keep eating it,' she said.
After lunch, the two of them went upstairs to their suite, where they cavorted clumsily on the huge bed for a brief period. Then they took a nap.
And now they were in their private sittingroom and were wearing only dressing-gowns over their nakedness, Mr Buggage in a plum-coloured silk one, Miss Tottle in pastel pink and pale green. Mr Buggage was reclining on the sofa with a copy of yesterday's Times on his lap and a Who's Who on the coffee table.
Miss Tottle was at the writing-desk with a hotel typewriter before her and a notebook in her hand. Both were again drinking champagne.
'This is a prime one,' Mr Buggage was saying. 'Sir Edward Leishman. Got the lead obit. Chairman of Aerodynamics Engineering. One of our major industrialists, it says.'
'Nice,' Miss Tottle said. 'Make sure the wife's alive.'
'Leaves a widow and three children,' Mr Buggage read out. 'And… wait a minute… in '00's 'Oo it says, Recreations, walkin' and fishin'. Clubs, White's and the Reform.'
'Address?' Miss Tottle asked.
'The Red House, Andover, Wilts.'
'How d'you spell Leishman?' Miss Tottle asked. Mr Buggage spelled it.
'How much shall we go for?'
'A lot,' Mr Buggage said. 'He was loaded. Try around nine 'undred.'
'You want to slip in The Compleat Angler?
It says he was a fisherman.'
'Yes. First edition. Four 'undred and twenty quid. You know the rest of it by 'eart. Bang it out quick. I got another good one to come.'
Miss Tottle put a sheet of notepaper into the typewriter and very rapidly she began to type. She had done so many thousands of these letters over the years that she never had to pause for one word. She even knew how to compile the list of books so that it came out to around nine hundred pounds or three hundred and fifty pounds or five hundred and twenty or whatever. She could make it come out to any sum Mr Buggage thought the client would stand. One of the secrets of this particular trade, as Mr Buggage knew, was never to be too greedy. Never go over a thousand quid with anyone, not even a famous millionaire.
The letter, as miss Tottle typed it, went like this: WILLIAM BUGGAGE—RARE BOOKS 27a Charing Cross Road, London.
Dear Lady Leishman,
It is with very great regret that I trouble you at this tragic time of your bereavement, but regretfully I am left with no alternative in the circumstances.
I had the pleasure of serving your late husband over a number of years and my invoices were always sent to him care of White's Club, as indeed were many of the little parcels of books that he collected with such enthusiasm.
He was always a prompt settler and a very pleasant gentleman to deal with. I am listing below his more recent purchases, those which, alas, he had ordered in more recent times before he passed away and which were delivered to him in the usual manner.
Perhaps I should explain to you that publications of this nature are often very rare and can therefore be rather costly. Some are privately printed, some are actually banned in this country and those are more costly still.
Rest assured, dear madam, that I always conduct business in the strictest confidence. My own reputation over many years in the trade is the best guarantee of my discretion. When the bill is paid, that is the last you will hear of the matter, unless of course you happen to be able to lay hands on your late husband's collection of erotica, in which case I should be happy to make you an offer for it.
The Books: THE COMPLEAT ANGLER, Isaak Walton, First Edition. Good clean copy. Some rubbing of edges. Rare. Ј420 LOVE IN FURS, Leopold von Sacher Masoch, 1920 edition. Slip cover. Ј75 SEXUAL SECRETS, Translation from Danish. Ј40 HOW TO PLEASURE YOUNG GIRLS WHEN YOU ARE OVER SIXTY, llustrations. Private printing from Paris. Ј95 THE ART OF PUNISHMENT—THE CANE, THE WHIP AND THE LASH, Translated from German. Banned in U.K. Ј115 THREE NAUGHTY NUNS, Good clean edition. Ј60 RESTRAINT—SHACKLES AND SILKEN CORDS, Illustrations.Ј80 WHY TEENAGERS PREFER OLD MEN, Illustrations. American.Ј90 THE LONDON DIRECTORY OF ESCORTS AND HOSTESSES, Current edition. Ј20 Total now due: Ј995 Yours faithfully, William Buggage 'Right,' Miss Tottle said, running the notepaper out of her typewriter. 'Done that one. But you realize I don't have my 'Bible' here, so I'll have to check the names when I get home before posting the letters.'
'You do that,' Mr Buggage said.
Miss Tottle's Bible was a massive index-card file in which were recorded the names and addresses of every client they had written to since the beginning of the business. The purpose of this was to try as nearly as possible to ensure that no two members of the same family received a Buggage invoice. If this were to happen, there would always be the danger that they might compare notes. It also served to guard against a case where a widow who had received one invoice upon the death of her first husband might be sent another invoice on the death of the second husband. That, of course, would let the cat right out of the bag. There was no guaranteed way of avoiding this perilous mistake because the widow would have changed her name when she remarried, but Miss Tottle had developed an instinct for sniffing out such pitfalls, and the Bible helped her to do it.
'What's next?' Miss Tottle asked.
'The next is Major General Lionel Anstruther. Here 'ee is. Got about six inches in 'Oo's 'Oo. Clubs, Army and
