"I want," he told the salesman, "something in a rough, coarse, common-looking suit—something such as a day labourer might wear."
The salesman was momentarily puzzled, yet seemed to see light.
"Yes, sir—right this way, sir," and he led his customer back between the lines of tables piled high with garments. He halted and spanned the chest of the customer with a tape measure. From halfway down a stack of coats he pulled one of the proper size.
"Here's a snappy thing, sir, fitted in at the back—belted —cuffs on the trousers, neat check——"
But the customer waved it aside impatiently.
"No, no! I want something common—coarse cloth, roughly made, no style; it mustn't fit too well."
The salesman deliberated sympathetically.
"Ah, I see—masquerade, sir?"
The customer again manifested impatience.
"No, no! A suit such as a day labourer might wear—a factory worker, one of the poorer class."