An ambassador and a referee were consulting a professor on the caption of a Buddhistic alphabet when a sobbing woman stopped them to sell an antique musical bathtub. Her dirty garment and the handkerchief around her waist were badly in need of sending to a laundry. The ambassador uncomfortably gave her a handful of pence from his wallet and said, “Take this fortune away, troublesome woman.” When her figure faded away, the brilliant professor said, “You are mistaken and your improper remark on her should be condemned. In terms of this extraordinary woman, you can’t classify her status by her horrible clothes or disgusting nails. Her clean woolen vest and stockings, especially her classic pronunciation, all suggested her upper status.” The ambassador gave a whistle in amazement, and advised making her acquaintance. The professor hesitated for a while, then compromised. The outcome was that she was an authentic superior police officer. When they were shown in her office and saw her once more, she brought them a teapot of tea and some cookies, laughing and saying, “I rubbed some cream and wax on my garment and passed myself off as a shabby woman among thieves and robbers to investigate a plot. Generally speaking, your overlooking me and my adaptation are the best help. But my pronunciation seemed to have betrayed me.”