Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who wrote the story of the detective  Sherlock Holmes, was having a trip in Europe. One day he got out of the railway station and climbed into a taxi. Before he could say a word, the driver turned to him and asked, "Where can I take you, Mr. Doyle?" Doyle was rather surprised. He asked the driver if he had ever seen him before. "No, sir," the driver replied, "I have never seen you before." Then he explained, "This morning's newspaper had a story about your being on vacation in Marseilles. This is the taxi stop where people who return from Marseilles always come. Your skin color tells me you have been on vacation. The ink spot on your right fingers suggests to me that you are a writer. Your clothes are very English, not French. Adding up all those pieces of information, I conclude that you are Sir Arthur Conan Doyle." "This is truly surprising!" the writer cried out. "You are a real-life copy to my fictional  story, Sherlock Holmes!" "And there is one other thing," the driver added, with a smile on his face. "What's that?" "Your name is on the front of your suitcase." Doyle was rather surprised because   _  .
the driver had seen him before the driver could call him by his name the driver was waiting for him the driver answered no questions from him