“I hold the Christian faith; I possess more than the ordinary degree of education common in this country; I have acquired proficiency in many accomplishments; I bear the impress of the culture and refinement of this most enlightened century, and yet! and yet!” “The searching, piercing glance of that old scientist seemed to penetrate some concealing veil and tearing it aside revealed me in my very nakedness; I seemed to stand forth an exposed impostor; I felt myself a self-confessed charlatan, caught in the very act of masquerading in the stolen trappings of my superiors; I became the buffoon in borrowed gown and cap of the philosopher, an object of ridicule and wrath.” “Before those deep seeing eyes I was no longer self-assured; convicted of mimicking manners foreign to myself, I seemed to cast aside the unavailing, purloined mask and mummery and thus reveal myself a fraud. Seeking safety from the scorn and just resentment of the defrauded I took refuge in pitiful imbecility and silliness.” “Once before the same experience was mine. In Paris, at the American Ambassador’s reception I met the Liberian minister. As soon as the gigantic black man fastened his gaze upon me, I became disconcerted. When we clasped hands all the feeling of superiority that education gives departed from me, all the refined sentiments created by culture vanished, I could only simper and chuckle like a child over senseless jokes as did the negro giant beside me.” “On that occasion, fearing to shock and disgust my bride, I stole like a thief from her side and feigning sudden illness begged a friend to take my place as escort of my wife, while as one bereft of reason I raced along the boulevards and buried myself beneath the dark shade of the trees in the Bois de Boulogne, where, capering and shouting madly I danced until, exhausted, I fell to the ground.” As Burton stood regarding his image reflected in the mirror, he became suddenly aware of how wan and worn was the face before him and turning wearily away he exclaimed, “I must throw aside these wretched recollections and forebodings. I look absolutely ill. I shall be in no condition to appear either at the office or at my home unless I succeed in obliterating some of the evidences of my suffering last night.” When, by a mighty effort, he had acquired sufficient control of his nerves and voice as not to attract the attention of his valet, he rang the bell. “Victor, prepare my bath, lay out some linen and a proper suit of clothing. Order my breakfast served as soon as I ring, open the windows and let fresh air into the room when I leave it,” said Burton to his attendant, when the valet appeared in answer to his master’s summons. A refreshing bath, a liberal indulgence in strong, black coffee, assisted by the will power of the man enabled Burton to enter the office of “J. Dunlap” almost entirely restored to his customary appearance.