For some time I sat in silent amazement, wondering how my guest had procured his entreé, inasmuch as I knew that all the doors were locked and bolted, and that my janitor had gone to bed some hour and a half previous to the stranger’s appearance. He sat in equal silence. Presently he arose, and pouring out a glass of brandy, he swallowed it in a twinkling, bowing to me with infinite gravity. He next produced a long and slender meerschaum from his pocket, lighted it with a pastille ambreé and resuming his seat, his eyes traveled over my attire from head to foot, with an air of well-bred curiosity. My bile began to work.
“May I ask, sir,” said I, “what is the meaning of this unusual visit?”
The stranger, carelessly desisting from his investigation, expelled a mouthful of smoke, and with a kind of concealed chuckle, which I did not half like, replied,
“Pray, sir, may I, without infringing upon propriety, inquire of you, who is your tailor?”
My hand inadvertently sought the decanter, and I had a vague idea of hurling it at my visiter’s head. One moment’s reflection, together with a glance at the well-made and sinewy form before me, determined me to waive hostilities.
“I cannot imagine, sir,” I replied, with severe dignity, “your motives in making any such inquiry.”
“Oh, a mere trifle. I was anxious to become acquainted with the name of your fashioner, who, to judge from the appearance of your habiliments, must possess a most exquisite taste.”
For a moment, I had suspicions that my amis inconnu was quizzing me. I eyed him narrowly, but the expression of his face was that of respectful earnestness, mingled with some curiosity. Not the slightest trace of a quiz could be detected upon his immovable aspect.
“If you are really anxious to know,” said I, and I confess I fell naturally gratified, for it was the first compliment I had ever heard addressed to my taste, “I can refer you to Cabbage & Stickem, Oxford street.”
“I could almost wish to exchange my vile taste in costume for your more original and certainly more refined style,” said the stranger, without moving a single muscle of his face.