"That is better," he said, "much better, my son. Now you are speaking like a gentleman. I had begun to fear for you. It has seemed to me you were almost narrow-minded. Never be that. Nothing is more annoying."
I drew myself up to my full height.
"Sir—" I began.
He slapped his hand on the table with an exclamation of disgust.
"And now you spoil it! Now you begin to rant and become heroic. I know what you're going to say. You cannot see a woman bullied—what? Well, by heaven, you can, and you will see it. You cannot stand an act of treachery? Come, come, my son, you have better blood in you than to pose as a low actor. All around us, every day, these things are happening. Meet them like a man, and do not tell me what is obvious."
I felt my nails bite into my palms.
"Your pardon, father," I said. "I shall behave better in the future."
He glanced at me narrowly for a moment.
"I believe," he said, "we begin to understand. A very good night to you,
Henry. And Henry—"
A change in his tone made me spin about on my heel.