"Putting Down the Moro"

One of the big double doors opened and a little old man in an old-fashioned black suit was there."Oh," he said. "Mr. Lovechild. Out in this inclement weather.""Well, you know me, Stokes," said Livingston. "It'll take a lot more than a raging blizzard to stay me from my appointed rounds.""Ha ha, yes, sir, and I see you have brought a friend.""I have indeed," said Livingston. "Stokes, I would like you to meet Mr. Beachcroft.""I am very pleased to meet you, sir," said the old man to Harry."I, um, am pleased to meet you, Mr., uh, Stokes," said Harry."Just Stokes, sir," said the little old man. "It is not my place to be addressed by the honorific 'mister'.""Okay, uh, 'Stokes'," said Harry."But do come in, gentlemen," said the old man called Stokes, stepping to one side. "You must be perishing from the cold.""Thanks, Stokes," said Livingston, and he waved Harry on to go first.Stokes closed the door behind them, and they were standing in a gloomy marble foyer, with a cracked vase full of…