"Do I look like a man who owned such a thing as a clothes-press, much less so fashionable a thing as a family skeleton?"
"Then what do you here?"
"I am mingling with fools as a penance."
A fool caught me by the sleeve and batted me gaily over the head with a bladder.
"Merry come up, why am I a fool?"
"It is the fashion," was my answer. This was like to gain me the reputation of being a wit. I must walk carefully, or these thoughtless ones would begin to suspect there was an impostor among them.
"Aha!" There was mine ancient friend Julius. "Hail Caesar!"
He stopped.
"Shall I beware the Ides of March?" I asked jovially.
"Nay, my good Cassius; rather beware of the ten of hearts," said Caesar in hollow tones, and he was gone.