But for her frank and friendly criticism, Sir Peter, holding change in abhorrence, would have worn that tweed suit another five years at the very least.
"It's a capital suit," said he.
"Perfectly disgraceful," said she.

"Look at your elbow." "Ordinary wear and tear." "Particularly tear." And while she was speaking Sir Peter had rubbed the worn place into a jagged hole.

Sir Peter sighed.

He was much attached to that tweed suit; it knew his ways, and had adapted itself to all the little eccentricities of his figure.

After five years there is a certain intimacy between a man and his suit.