"Silence, silence!" commanded the white papers in one vast chamber, and, in another, babel existed! And then that terrible mute dining-room, with the high, unscalable mantelpieces that no midget could ever reach! He kept uttering the most dreadful judgments on the club and on Mr.Oxford, in quite audible tones, oblivious of the street.

He was aroused by a rather scared man saluting him.

It was Mr.Oxford's chauffeur, waiting patiently till his master should be ready to re-enter the wheeled salon.
The chauffeur apparently thought him either demented or inebriated, but his sole duty was to salute, and he did nothing else.
Quite forgetting that this chauffeur was a fellow-creature, Priam immediately turned upon his heel, and hurried down the street.

At the corner of the street was a large bank, and Priam, acquiring the reckless courage of the soldier in battle, entered the bank.

He had never been in a London bank before.