Has it come to that ?' 'My dear creature,' returned his companion, 'disguise is the spice of life.

What is life, passionately exclaimed a French philosopher, without the pleasures of disguise?
I don't say it's always good taste, and I know it's unprofessional; but what's the odds, downhearted drawing-master?
It has to be.

We have to leave a false impression on the minds of many persons, and in particular on the mind of Mr Gideon Forsyth--the young gentleman I know by sight--if he should have the bad taste to be at home.' 'If he be at home ?' faltered the artist.

'That would be the end of all.' 'Won't matter a d--,' returned Michael airily.

'Let me see your clothes, and I'll make a new man of you in a jiffy.' In the bedroom, to which he was at once conducted, Michael examined Pitman's poor and scanty wardrobe with a humorous eye, picked out a short jacket of black alpaca, and presently added to that a pair of summer trousers which somehow took his fancy as incongruous.