something else for him to eat. She takes the portrait from its
stand and brings it to him.)

RAINA. That is a photograph of the gentleman--the patriot and
hero--to whom I am betrothed.

MAN (looking at it). I'm really very sorry. (Looking at her.)
Was it fair to lead me on? (He looks at the portrait again.)
Yes: that's him: not a doubt of it. (He stifles a laugh.)

RAINA (quickly). Why do you laugh?

MAN (shamefacedly, but still greatly tickled). I didn't laugh,
I assure you. At least I didn't mean to. But when I think of him
charging the windmills and thinking he was doing the finest
thing--(chokes with suppressed laughter).

RAINA (sternly). Give me back the portrait, sir.

MAN (with sincere remorse). Of course. Certainly. I'm really
very sorry. (She deliberately kisses it, and looks him straight
in the face, before returning to the chest of drawers to replace
it. He follows her, apologizing.) Perhaps I'm quite wrong, you
know: no doubt I am. Most likely he had got wind of the
cartridge business somehow, and knew it was a safe job.

RAINA. That is to say, he was a pretender and a coward! You did
not dare say that before.

MAN (with a comic gesture of despair). It's no use, dear lady: