“Oh, you haven’t missed much,” said Bill. “Everyone went there just to say they had been. It was boring really, and, my God, you can get tired of fried fish.”

“Where did everyone go?”

“To the Seven Dials Club, of course,” said Bill, staring. “Wasn’t that what you were asking about?”

“I didn’t know it by that name,” said Bundle.

“Used to be a slummy sort of district round about Tottenham Court Road way. It’s all pulled down and cleaned up now. But the Seven Dials Club keeps to the old atmosphere. Fried fish and chips. General squalor. Kind of East End stunt, but awfully handy to get at after a show.”

“It’s a night club, I suppose,” said Bundle. “Dancing and all that?”