He must be a gentleman, or there's no point in the plot." "Don't let us endanger any point the plot may happen to possess, for goodness sake," agreed the manager, "let him by all means have a gold cigarette case." How one may know the perfect Gentleman.
So, regardless of expense, a gold cigarette case was obtained and put down to expenses.

And yet on the first night of that musical play, when that leading personage smashed a tray over a waiter's head, and, after a row with the police, came home drunk to his wife, even that gold cigarette case failed to convince one that the man was a gentleman beyond all doubt.
The old writers appear to have been singularly unaware of the importance attaching to these socks, and ties, and cigarette-cases.

They told us merely what the man felt and thought.

What reliance can we place upon them?
How could they possibly have known what sort of man he was underneath his clothes?
Tweed or broadcloth is not transparent.

Even could they have got rid of his clothes there would have remained his flesh and bones.