…heart-rending scream, and in spite of the remonstrance of the police, every one, saving myself and the constables who held me, made a rush for the door. The master of the house was lying on the floor beside his bed, face downwards, with the back of his skull smashed to pulp. He did it with his jemmy, without a doubt, I heard someone say.” See, there are bloodstains on his coat!” — Which of course there were, stains from my own blood. Then the police sergeant formally charged me with the murder; my clothes were searched, and all the trinkets I had nabbed from the dressing- table were brought to light.”And all the while this was taking place, that demon of a traitress was kneeling beside her dead husband — the man she hated and whom, I am positive, she killed — moaning and groaning, and calling upon Heaven, in…

…Who has not dreamed of being suddenly bereft of their clothes and of finding themselves in some public place, the cynosure of all eyes, without even so much as a pocket-handkerchief? A dream of this kind happened to someone I know — someone who is much to the fore in society. He dreamed that he and his brother were strutting up and down Bond Street, when he suddenly noticed that everyone was looking at them in a very odd and marked manner. Wondering what it could mean, he hurriedly glanced at his person (the subject of clothes, by the way, was ever uppermost in his mind), and, to his undying shame and horror, saw that he was naked, and so was his brother. In an agony of mind, he caught hold of the latter by the arm and whispered: “For goodness sake, Dick, make for the first cab you…