I had been in London for a week, staying with one of my father’s business partners. I had dealt with some business for my father, largely concerning the shares he held in the various London companies connected with his own, and everywhere I went I was treated as he would have been treated. His partner attempted to dissuade me from accepting the Company position, but when I told him I knew he had been briefed by my father on the matter, he gave up trying. On several occasions when my daily round took me close to Knightsbridge I had walked back and forth in front of the Company headquarters and studied the building. It was part of an impressive terrace, with a crest in gold and black above its double entrance, and reached via a high flight of steps, on either side of which stood polished marble pillars. It was an imposing entrance into that life, one that inspired confidence and every investment a man might be willing to make. On the day of my interview I arrived over an hour early. I cannot explain why I did this, nor why I attempted to explain to the porter who showed me in that I had only just then arrived in London and did not wish to waste my time elsewhere.
