From the first he was aware of a certain difference in himself and his ways.

The careless glance of a lounger on the pavement of Pall Mall filled him with a sudden anger.

The man was wearing gloves, an article of dress which Trent ignored, and smoking a cigarette, which he loathed.

Trent was carelessly dressed in a tweed suit and red tie, his critic wore a silk hat and frock coat, patent-leather boots, and a dark tie of invisible pattern.

Yet Trent knew that he was a type of that class which would look upon him as an outsider, and a black sheep, until he had bought his standing.