"You see I'm a smoker," he added, holding up his yellow-stained forefinger.
“Not much,” confessed the other as they alighted from the smoker.
Poor young Mr. Smith, he was a smoker also, but not as bad as the Professor.
It was actually touching the foremost feature on the smoker's countenance.
Slowly, slowly, it went, nearer and nearer to the smoker's nose.
When a cigar ...