I entertain them at your request.

Why should I be ashamed of my oilskins?
They are in accord with the life I live here.

I make no pretence, you see, Cecil," he added, with a faintly amused smile, "at being an ornamental member of Society." His brother regarded him with something very much like disgust.
"No!" he said sarcastically.

"No one could accuse you of that." Something in his tone seemed to suggest to Andrew a new idea.

He looked down at the clothes he wore beneath his oilskins--the clothes almost of a working man.