it might attract undue attention, for there are times when I think I am
just a trifle careless about my appearance.

I decided I had better begin operations with a new suit. This would
involve changing my regular tailor. The one who has had my custom for
the last quarter of a century is used to my way of putting my head
round his door once in three years and commanding, 'A tweed lounge
suit, the same as the last.'

'Yes, sir,' he invariably concurs, 'any difference in measurements,
sir?'

'I think not,' I reply, 'but make it quite loose and comfortable in
case I've added a few inches to the waist.'

That is all. Occasionally, of course, I vary the order by making it an
overcoat, or an extra pair of slacks (when I burn holes in my usual
ones, which frequently happens), but the procedure is always the same.
It can easily be understood that I had not the courage to confront him
after all these years with a demand for the latest thing in the
season's suitings, and especial injunctions regarding style and cut.

As I was dwelling on the annoyances and difficulties that were already
presenting themselves, Miss Warrington came in. I must confess that,
as I looked at the irritating female whose misplaced affections were
already harassing me, I felt slightly confused. Since I had first
learned of her insane infatuation I had studiously avoided being left
alone with her for one instant. At the moment, however, there was no
possibility of escape, as she stood between me and the door, thus
effectively barring my exit. I could only confront her uneasily,