Long's Hotel, in Bond Street, as it appeared in the sixties, was a species of adjunct to half the clubs in London. Men playing till three or four in the morning in clubs that aspired to being considered "correct" usually adjourned to Long's, and one man having engaged a bedroom, the rest trooped in after him. To such an extent, indeed, was this recognised, that a commodious bedroom on the ground floor was especially set apart for these nocturnal emergencies, and within five minutes of entering the most methodical of night porters produced cards, candles and the inevitable brandy and sodas.  
     ... it was here that the fastest and best men in London lounged in and out of the coffee room from breakfast time till well on in the afternoon, and smoked, drank champagne, talked horsy, and swore loudly.
    Not that Long's was not a highly respectable hotel: on the contrary, the entire upper part was conducted on strictly correct lines, and patronised by the best county people of the day, and the lattitude granted to the ground floor must be set down rather as a desire of the management to please all parties, and bow before the inevitable there was no resisting.

'One of the Old Brigade' (Donald Shaw), London in the Sixties, 1908