“Before I came to England I was told that there were two things which an Englishman who was comme-ilfaut never did. "And now let's see who'll dare to oppose me. My birth certificate was destroyed when the county building it was housed in burned down. We have both tried hard to develop it—you and I —and we have failed. He's the only native I trust in these parts. These fellows must be right,” he added thoughtfully, “and yet—there’s a mystery somewhere. “No, that’s fine. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. But how to avail himself of it was the question, for in his present garb he was sure to be recognised. Irreton. . "Sit down, fool!" "Jack," said Kneebone, who had been considerably interested by the foregoing scene, "are these regrets for your past life sincere?" "Suppose them so," rejoined Jack, "what then?" "Nothing—nothing," stammered Kneebone, his prudence getting the better of his sympathy.
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