Nobody can look at that lady, sir, without being struck by the great taste and beauty of her dress--" As I said those last words, the poor man seemed to find his powers of speech again.

He cut me short directly as haughtily as if he had been a duke instead of a stationer.
"Try some other means of justifying your vile calumny against my wife," says he.

"Her milliner's bill for the past year is on my file of receipted accounts at this moment." "Excuse me, sir," says I, "but that proves nothing.

Milliners, I must tell you, have a certain rascally custom which comes within the daily experience of our office.

A married lady who wishes it can keep two accounts at her dressmaker's; one is the account which her husband sees and pays; the other is the private account, which contains all the extravagant items, and which the wife pays secretly, by installments, whenever she can.