No true woman could ever care for him, no really classy society ever open its doors to him.
I am worried about this thing because, to confess the horrid truth, I wear a made-up tie myself.

On foggy afternoons I steal out of the house disguised.

They ask me where I am going in a hat that comes down over my ears, and why I am wearing blue spectacles and a false beard, but I will not tell them.

I creep along the wall till I find a common hosier's shop, and then, in an assumed voice, I tell the man what it is I want.
They come to fourpence halfpenny each; by taking the half-dozen I get them for a trifle less.

They are put on in a moment, and, to my vulgar eye, look neat and tasteful.
Of course, I know I am not a gentleman.