The person whose self-possession fails him miserably at ordinary
junctures may rise superior at a soul-disturbing crisis. Burton,
red-faced, perspiring, conscious of the sorry figure he presented,
arose from his hands and knees with brilliant composure. A glistening
drop was tickling the side of his nose, yet he inclined his head
politely towards the pickets; innumerable other drops were creeping
disturbingly down the middle of his back, yet he smiled almost blandly.
“Thank you, if you will be so kind,” he said, and held forth his hand.