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He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. "Where shall I fly?" exclaimed the lady, bewildered with terror. But I see now. You were afraid of me, afraid that I should have been shocked, afraid of the scandal. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so.

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