"Well," said one of the other
lady passengers--a little enviously I thought, but still pertinently--"if I
could afford to wear such fine clothes I think I would take a Cab." Yes,
decidedly, the fur-lined coat would not be complete without the motor-car.
And then consider how it limits your freedom and raises the tariff against
you. The tip that would be gratefully received if you were getting into
that modest coat that you have discarded would be unworthy of the fur-lined
standard that you have deliberately adopted. The recipient would take it
frigidly, with a glance at the luxurious garment into which he had helped
you--a glance that would cut you to the quick. Your friends would have to
be fur-lined, too, and your dinners would no longer be the modest affairs
of old, but would soar to the champagne standard. It would not be possible
to slip unnoticed into your favourite little restaurant in Soho to take
your simple chop, or to go in quest of that wonderful restaurant of Arne's
of which "Aldebaran" keeps the secret.
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