I cut him short. "In that case you have no choice. Did she also insist on the fur coat?"
"That was my own idea," he replied proudly. "I have had it for two years, and only worn it once."
"What happened?"
"Nothing. It was in my room in front of the looking-glass."
"People will think I am your dresser," I objected.
"They will respect you as an artist," he replied.
"We won't argue the point," I said. "Wait till dinner-time; then you will be sorry you insulted me."
We arrived at Waterloo at a quarter to five, by which time Pitman had reached a state of intense irritation. The carriage had been full the whole way, and its other occupants had done little but cast furtive glances of admiration and envy at his coat.
"Thank Heaven we're out of that," he muttered, as he stepped on to the platform. "Gaping set of idiots!"
"It's nothing to what you're going through," I replied encouragingly. "I warned you before we started. What's the programme now?"