Of course he had soon moved from Vauxhall Bridge Road.

He knew enough for that.

What he got hold of next was an old, enormous, rat-infested brick house in a small street off the Strand.
Strangers were taken in front of the meanest possible, begrimed, yellowy, flat brick wall, with two rows of unadorned window-holes one above the other, and were exhorted with bated breath to behold and admire the simplicity of the head-quarters of the great financial force of the day.
The word THRIFT perched right up on the roof in giant gilt letters, and two enormous shield-like brass-plates curved round the corners on each side of the doorway were the only shining spots in de Barral's business outfit.

Nobody knew what operations were carried on inside except this--that if you walked in and tendered your money over the counter it would be calmly taken from you by somebody who would give you a printed receipt.

That and no more.