George nodded to the doorman that held the impressive wood and brass door that opened out onto the street, and glanced to the young man at his side. The fog was rolling in again from the river, and as close as Parliament was to the Thames, the streets were already thick and dark. It could have been late winter for all the warmth and brightness that remained in the street.
"Good evening, Master Lloyd, and thank you." He said, putting on his hat and heading down the steps and into the fog.