Not that anybody read Moorsom at the Antipodes, but everybody had heard of him--women, children, dock labourers, cabmen.
The only person (besides himself) who had read Moorsom, as far as he knew, was old Dunster, who used to call himself a Moorsomian (or was it Moorsomite) years and years ago, long before Moorsom had worked himself up into the great swell he was now, in every way.

.

.

Socially too.
Quite the fashion in the highest world.
Renouard listened with profoundly concealed attention.

"A charlatan," he muttered languidly.
"Well--no.