Parlour

Will you walk into my parlour, said a Spider to a Fly; / 'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy.

At half-past nine on this Saturday evening, the parlour of the Salutation Inn, High Holborn, contained most of its customary visitors.[…]In former days every tavern of repute kept such a room for its own select circle, a club, or society, of habitués, who met every evening, for a pipe and a cheerful glass.