She: "You will no doubt hear a rumour of it from idle tongues who will distort the truth of it. It would pain me to think of his memory tarnished in that way. Philip drank, I'm afraid. Not regularly, or consistently, and not in a way to hurt his friends. Nor did it interfere with the exercise of his public duties. Nevertheless, the vice was a private shame to him. He was very sensible of my dislike of it. When he felt himself too keenly, he took himself off until the poison had exhausted itself of him. It distressed me of course that it should happen, but he was proud and sensitive enough never to allow me to witness it. I felt deep gratitude for that. And not a little pity."
He: "More rum dear?"