In the heart of the West End, there are many quiet corners, almost unknown to everyone except the taxi drivers who traverse them with expert knowledge and triumphantly arrive at Park Lane, Berkeley Square, or South Audley Street. If one takes a humble street from the park and turns right and left once or twice, they will find themselves on a quiet lane with the Bertram Hotel on the right-hand side. The Bertram Hotel has been here for a long time. During the war, the houses to its right and a little further down to the left were demolished, but the Bertram itself remained intact. Of course, it did not escape a few scratches, bruises, and marks, as real estate agents would say, but with a reasonable financial expense, it was restored to its original condition. By 1955, it had regained the appearance it had in 1939 – respectable, not at all flashy, and unsuspectingly expensive.
That was the Bertram, frequented for many years by the upper echelons of the clergy, ladies of the provincial aristocracy, and young women returning home for holidays from expensive finishing schools. ("London has so few places where a girl can stay alone, but of course, the Bertram is just right. We've been staying there for years.") There had been, of course, many other hotels modeled after the Bertram. Some still existed, but almost all had been touched by the winds of change. They had been forced to modernize, to serve a different clientele. And the Bertram had been forced to change as well, but it had done so so cleverly that it was not apparent at first, casual glance.