“ Keys was giving way to one of those orgies of spring onions and Limburger cheese to which he occasionally succumbed—for even the greatest of men have failings—and the atmosphere of our dining room was very unpleasant to one with my delicate olfactory nerves, so that it was with a feeling of positive relief that I welcomed the pungent odor of the smoke from a strong black cigar that was wafted in on us as the door opened to admit a stranger. ”

“ It was close on one o'clock in the morning when I returned, and Keys was still sitting before the fire. With unusual geniality he got up and held out his hand. "Merry Christmas, Whenson." We shook hands. Feeling something sticky, I looked at my right hand, and saw some red paint on it, and then I noticed some white fluff adhering to the front of his coat.
Keys often assumed disguises, but—as Santa Claus!—well, I forgave him the comb. ”

“ A tall, nervous looking man, he commenced to apologize for having interrupted us at supper, but Keys waved aside his explanations and said abruptly. "You are a married man, sir, and very fond of your wife."
Wonderingly our visitor pleaded guilty to both indictments, and Keys resumed:
"Of course any one could tell that your wife has given you a Christmas present, a man with your intelligence would never buy a cigar like that, and only love for her would induce you to smoke it." ”