He was suddenly ashamed of his tight-fitting cut-a-
way coat and striped trousers. Really he ought to get a new suit!
These garments were much too small for him.
Were ironic eyes taking in the fresh creases in those New York
trousers? Were they regarding his shimmering patent leather shoes
with an intelligence that told them that he was in pain? Were they
wondering how much he weighed and why he didn't unbutton his coat
when he must have known that it would look better if it didn't pinch
him so tightly across the chest? Above all things, were they smiling
at the corpulent part of him that preceded the rest of his body, clad
in an immaculate waistcoat? He never had felt so conspicuous in his
life, nor so certain that he was out of place.
Coming in due time--and with a grateful heart--to a small ante-
chamber, he was told to sit down and wait. He sat down very promptly.
In any other house he would have sauntered around, looking at the
emblems, crests and shields that hung upon the walls. But now he sat
and wondered. He wondered whether this could be William W.
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