“Manchester,” I said, lying boldly.

Age came next, colour of eyes and hair, and then⁠—“What’s your height?”

“Now why on earth,” said I, “do you want to know that for?”

The porter bent towards me confidentially. “The Minister of Health’s very interested in your height,” said he. Whereat I determined that the Minister of Health should be fully satisfied.

Now I have always wished to be a tall woman and Fate having brought me the opportunity I gave myself five foot nine inches, which the porter, highly amused, duly entered up.

“Now you go on upstairs,” said he, “and the female attendants will look after you.”