Suddenly he uttered an exclamation of surprise.
"White stockings--humph!" he said.
Somehow those white stockings suggested the ironical comment of the world upon his proposed mesalliance; then he laughed good-humouredly.
"Taste is all a matter of habit, anyhow," said he to himself.

"My own sister wouldn't have had any better taste if she hadn't been taught.

And what am I?
"What am I?
I drink more whiskey in a day than any three men in the country.

I don't do a stroke of work; I've got debts all over the world; I've mulcted all my friends; I've made fools of two or three women in my time; I've broken every commandment except--well, I guess I've broken every one, if it comes to that, in spirit, anyhow.

I'm a thief, a fire-eating highwayman, begad, and here I am, with a perforated lung, going to marry a young girl like that, without one penny in the world except what I stole! What beasts men are! The worst woman may be worse than the worst man, but all men are worse than most women.