My tone was that of an adjutant of a Guards' battalion.
My inquisitor was a tall man in an ulster, with a green felt hat on his small head.

He had a lean, well-bred face, and very choleric blue eyes.
I set him down as a soldier, retired, Highland regiment or cavalry, old style.
He produced a telegraph form, like the policeman.
'Middle height--strongly built--grey tweeds--brown hat--speaks with a colonial accent--much sunburnt.

What's your name, sir ?' I did not reply in a colonial accent, but with the hauteur of the British officer when stopped by a French sentry.

I asked him again what the devil he had to do with my business.

This made him angry and he began to stammer.
'I'll teach you what I have to do with it.