The Secret Adversary

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a seat, Mr.--er?' To which I reply promptly and significantly: 'Edward
Whittington!' whereupon Mr. Carter turns purple in the face and gasps
out: 'How much?' Pocketing the usual fee of fifty pounds, I rejoin you
in the road outside, and we proceed to the next address and repeat the
performance."

"Don't be absurd, Tommy. Now for the other letter. Oh, this is from the
Ritz!"

"A hundred pounds instead of fifty!"

"I'll read it:

"DEAR SIR,

"Re your advertisement, I should be glad if you would call round
somewhere about lunch-time.