There were men in London - bookmakers, skittle sharps, jellied eel sellers on race courses, and men like that - who would not have known whom you were referring to if you had mentioned Einstein, butt they all knew Gally. He had been, till that institution passed beyond the veil, a man at whom the old Pelican Club pointed with pride, and he had known more policemen by their first names than any other man in the metropolis.
P.G. Wodehouse, Sunset at Blandings (1977), 22
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