Admiration, too, might be the feeling of a man at the zoo who stops at a cage to gaze at the wild creatures therein. It could be the sentiment of a child in the park, set aside by circumstance and watching as his peers jump and run around him. Left to its own devices and unreturned, admiration can breed contempt. It is not so many paces removed from the sort of jealousy that might fan a flame in a man's belly.

Walter's pilot light has been burning since he was an infant. Now, the flames lick at his gut and turn the sweet fortified wine to bile. As the man continues to rage at him in a tongue he cannot understand, he feels the eyes of the other passengers turned their way. The false veneer of confidence slips as he sees himself made spectacle in front of the whole dining cabin. When the man pushes at him with his fingers, Walter feels the last strands of his patience snap.

He raises his hand and knocks the man's arm from his chest, then steps close enough to put his hot breath down the stranger's neck. It only emphasizes the difference in their height. Each breath is audible, like the rasp of a caged animal. Fire seems to burn at the backs of Walter's eyes. But true fights in his life have been few and far between, and the look of this man tells a different story. Moments pass when he can't even find his tongue to shape it into words, and then Walter reaches into his pocket. Drawing out a dull shilling, he thrusts it at the man like an offering made to a beggar.

"It's nothing to me. You're nothing, you see." He puts the tips of his fingers at either one of the man's shoulders and gives him a shove.