“I had thought of painting and powdering my face and all that there was to show of me, in order to render myself visible, but the disadvantage of this lay in the fact that I should require turpentine and other appliances and a considerable amount of time before I could vanish again.  Finally I chose a mask of the better type, slightly grotesque but not more so than many human beings, dark glasses, greyish whiskers, and a wig.  I could find no underclothing, but that I could buy subsequently, and for the time I swathed myself in calico dominoes and some white cashmere scarfs.  I could find no socks, but the hunchback’s boots were rather a loose fit and sufficed.  In a desk in the shop were three sovereigns and about thirty shillings’ worth of silver, and in a locked cupboard I burst in the inner room were eight pounds in gold.  I could go forth into the world again, equipped.

“Then came a curious hesitation.  Was my appearance really credible?  I tried myself with a little bedroom looking-glass, inspecting myself from every point of view to discover any forgotten chink, but it all seemed sound.  I was grotesque to the theatrical pitch, a stage miser, but I was certainly not a physical impossibility.  Gathering confidence, I took my looking-glass down into the shop, pulled down the shop blinds, and surveyed myself from every point of view with the help of the cheval glass in the corner.

“I spent some minutes screwing up my courage and then unlocked the shop door and marched out into the street, leaving the little man to get out of his sheet again when he liked.  In five minutes a dozen turnings intervened between me and the costumier’s shop.  No one appeared to notice me very pointedly.  My last difficulty seemed overcome.”

He stopped again.

“And you troubled no more about the hunchback?” said Kemp.

“No,” said the Invisible Man.  “Nor have I heard what became of him.  I suppose he untied himself or kicked himself out.  The knots were pretty tight.”

He became silent and went to the window and stared out.

“What happened when you went out into the Strand?”

“Oh!—­disillusionment again.  I thought my troubles were over.  Practically I thought I had impunity to do whatever I chose, everything—­save to give away my secret.  So I thought.  Whatever I did, whatever the consequences might be, was nothing to me.  I had merely to fling aside my garments and vanish.  No person could hold me.  I could take my money where I found it.  I decided to treat myself to a sumptuous feast, and then put up at a good hotel, and accumulate a new outfit of property.  I felt amazingly confident; it’s not particularly pleasant recalling that I was an ass.  I went into a place and was already ordering lunch, when it occurred to me that I could not eat unless I exposed my invisible face.  I finished ordering the lunch, told the man I should be back in ten minutes, and went out exasperated.  I don’t know if you have ever been disappointed in your appetite.”