Well the great unwashed have obviously deigned to complete their winter break and return to work. Pasty-faced commuters fought their way onto my train and sat there in a collective catalepsis until the train disgorged them into the gaping maw of Waterloo Station to recommence their futile existence in the City. 

I waited until the train was empty and went to the door of my carriage. I waited, expecting the guards to bring a red carpet, but they let me down (I shall write a stiff letter to the Chairman, later). As it was so cold, Clarence had arranged for my car to meet me at the barrier and whisk me away to my Club. It was a busy day as so many people, freshly back, wanted to hear about my Christmas and New Year, and needed that fillip they receive from hearing how life could be.