These are the evidence of his profession, of his art you might say; sprinkled across the floor are glossy shopping bags from New Bond Street, which are the material evidence of his phenomenal success.
He talks fluently, intelligently and with passion about cricket, using his seductive, sometimes disarming smile as the litmus test of his approval for places, players and tactics, while his green eyes probe the questions that examine his present and his future.
Warne is the finest and most intoxicating bowler of his time; he is box office, big time, he knows it and he plays to it. Maybe, just maybe, he is the greatest spin bowler of all time and he probably knows that, too, though would not agree as much in conversation, but he plays on it in his cricket methods and uses its suggestion as a weapon against timid opponents.
He is at once secure and sensitive; opinionated yet modest enough; occasionally outrageous and also reflective; he is amusing to talk with but deadly serious in his work. ``I carried on like a pork chop at Trent Bridge after we had won [the Ashes], prancing about on the balcony taunting the crowd and spraying champagne all over the place. I wouldn't do it again but would emphasise that I didn't do anything morally wrong y'know, drop my trousers or make rude signs - but I went too far and they've given me heaps for it back home. I am not proud of it.''
Recrimination, then, but what reason for the mocking, unworthy exhibitionism? ``Frustration coming out, that's all. I've really copped it from the crowds here this time and it's upset me, unpleasant personal stuff that I should ignore but can't. John Crawley said in the papers that some of it was out of order and the crowds should get off my back, which I thanked him for. That, and the pitches which have been so seamer-orientated and have led people to say I've lost it, which I haven't.
``In the emotion of winning the Ashes again I answered aggression with aggression of my own and went over the top. For that reason it's been my least enjoyable tour, which is a pity because I love England and had always thought of the cricket supporters here as keen appreciators of the game.''
Well, most are, of course, and many have their fingers crossed and say prayers at night in the hope that Warne, the mesmeric match-winner, the grand entertainer, the standard-bearer for the ancient art that was first discovered and nurtured on the green fields of England, will be back to tease and torment for their own county next summer. He has had four approaches, two to be captain, and will not come cheap. Six figures and more is rumoured and is neither denied nor agreed upon. Extraordinary to report that not one county has been rebuffed for a lack of gold.
Which should please the Australian Cricket Board. Is he not contracted to them? Could they possibly let him play a punishing English season? ``Yeah, they'll let me go. Trevor Hohns, the convenor of selectors, has publicly said he has no objections and the board won't mind so long as I am there for Australia matches. I would say I am 90 per cent certain to play county cricket next summer. I have always wanted to and now is the time.''
What on earth for, just the money? ``Well, obviously that's a temptation but I've always been interested in county cricket and been keen to try it. I think there's plenty of talent here and I'd like to see if I can make something of the under-achievers. It may sound odd but Australians are keen for England to play well, which strengthens the world game in general. The Ashes remain the ultimate for us as I am sure they are with you. Also I'd like to develop my captaincy, which is an interest and motivation itself.''
Warne is captain of Victoria and applies much he has learnt from Allan Border, Mark Taylor, Ian Chappell and Richie Benaud to his position. He is disciplined, punctual and dresses smartly. He says that good disciplines bring a team together and that their effect can help the team out of awkward positions in matchplay.
I asked if he wanted to captain Australia and he said that he didn't think about it, though Chappell often pushed him to admit it would be a good idea one day, and that it was an honour which should come from the blue not one which was touted for. It was not a specific ambition. ``One thing is for sure, I'd have to mature a bit, curb the larrikin in me and I sometimes wonder if that might affect my play.''
For how long will he play? ``Until I am 50 if I am competitive, committed and enjoying myself. Heck, it's what I do and it's fun.''
How's the finger which was operated on just a little more than a year ago and the shoulder, which clearly causes pain? ``The finger is fine, near a hundred per cent. It gets tired quicker than it did, 30 overs in a day and I know about it, but it doesn't affect my grip on the ball until then, not at all. The shoulder is fine as long as I have constant treatment and massage. I can't pretend it's perfect, I certainly bowl less googlies and big spinning leg-breaks than I used to, but they are still there if I push it, which I have done at times during this series.''
He feels he is close to the peak of his ability and points to a ball bowled to Crawley at Old Trafford as ``the best, biggest spinning ball I've bowled in my life''. Give him a dry and helpful wicket, he says, which this one at the Oval may just be, and it'll be the Warne people remember. ``As players see more of you, not just from the batting end but also on television and video, you're bound to take fewer big wicket hauls. Mind you, it's one thing for a batsman to read it and another to play it. If I don't know how much it will turn how will they?''
He thinks that this Australian team have played at their peak during the last three Tests - ``don't forget the pitches were specifically prepared not to suit us'' - and suggests England have not been allowed to play well since Edgbaston, rather than that they have played badly. ``Gough is a huge loss, he lifts the whole production with his approach. The newspaper coverage is a huge obstacle, the way that it jumps on the England players' backs and destroys their confidence. This is the hardest country in the world to play as the home team, no question.''
When he had arrived back in his hotel room, suffocated by shopping and by the rush to a team meeting, Shane Warne superstar, the piece of public property, checked the mobile phone he had left behind that morning. There were 46 messages. There is no peace, whether wicked or not.
``I am not complaining, though the attention can take its toll. I love nice clothes, a nice car, a nice house and if people think I am a show-off then so be it. Actually, these things are my hobby and I am proud of them. As a person I am confident and as a bowler I am cocky. I don't think I am arrogant, though I don't suppose I'd get a unilateral vote of agreement on that. I am not stupid enough to think that everyone's gonna like you and all I object to is the media inventing stories or exaggerating things which distort public perception. From 1992 to 1995 I was the favourite son, now for some reason I feel that they search for the opportunity to cut me down.''
Jealousy, perhaps, and those momentary lapses of graciousness which attract the vultures and explain the inquisitions. Warne is sponsored-up, so to speak, to the eyeballs. I ask where the famous, sparkling silver Swoosh ear-stud is. ``Dunno, it came out somehow and it's disappeared.'' Are Nike miffed? ``No, actually I had it made myself, it had nothing to do with them, not that they objected!''
He has strutted the catwalk with Helena Christensen and become a shareholder in the worldwide Official All Star Cafe group along with Tiger Woods, Joe Montana, Andre Agassi, Monica Seles and Shaquille O'Neal. He would like to work in television when he finishes illuminating it, or anywhere, in fact, in the massive Channel 9 corporation.
His roots were middle-class Melbourne, surfboards and Aussie Rules football - his earliest joy. Turning to cricket, he came to play and learn in Bristol and in the Lancashire Leagues but, back at home and overweight, he was thrown out of the Cricket Academy, having won a scholarship to get there, because the coaches thought him a brat. Shocked into action and suddenly driven to play for Australia, he gave up the beer, limited his beloved pizzas, ``trained my arse off'' to lose two stone and was given a second go at the academy by Rod Marsh.
His partnership with Terry Jenner, another maverick ``leggie'' and the advice and encouragement of the other mentors, Chappell and Benaud, has led him on the road of cricket glory and to 262 Test match wickets, already more than any other Australian spinner.
He is just 27 and has another 200 wickets in him if the body and the appetite hold together. Talking of appetite, he says that right now he is a stone overweight and that it will come off in a month of serious denial at home in late September and early October as he prepares to lead Victoria.
If he has an overriding belief and standard to which he refers, it is that the game of cricket should be kept simple. Now that he has Brooke, his recently born first child, to go with Simone, his wife of two years, he may settle a little, not chase life quite so hard and apply that belief to his excesses. The hope is that it does not compromise his flair or his spirit.