to the vulgarities of existence, at that precise moment when the
imagination was most abstracted from all commercial common-places;
to be stopped by a tailor, (and such a tailor!) when the mind was
dreaming of a mistress--the bare idea was intolerable! So I thought;
and, without further explanation, hurried precipitately from the
spot, nor ever once paused till far removed from the husky tones of
that sepulchral voice which had once before so highly excited my
annoyance.

[The narrater then visits one of Mr. Champagne Wright's masquerades,
where he falls in love with a _fresco_ nun. He receives a
billet.]


I stood like one bewildered; but, soon recovering my self-possession,
moved direct towards the chandelier, with a view to peruse an
epistle expressive of woman's fondest love. As with glistening
eyes I proceeded to tear open the billet, a flood of transporting
thoughts swept over me. I fancied that I was on the eve of
acquaintance with ----; but, judge my astonishment, when, instead
of the expected document, the key to such transporting bliss, I
read, engraved in large German text, on a dirty square card,
embossed at the edge with flowers, the revolting, business-like
address of


Mr. Thomas M----e,
Tailor,
116, High Holborn.