Aaron understood not one word.

So he just wandered after the blue blouse of the porter.
The porter deposited the bag on the steps of the station front, fired off more questions and gesticulated into the half-illuminated space of darkness outside the station.

Aaron decided it meant a cab, so he nodded and said "Yes." But there were no cabs.

So once more the blue-bloused porter slung the big bag and the little bag on the strap over his shoulder, and they plunged into the night, towards some lights and a sort of theatre place.
One carriage stood there in the rain--yes, and it was free.
"Keb?
Yes--orright--sir.

Whe'to?
Where you go?
Sir William Franks?
Yes, I know.