As you interpret him, what had he to be afraid of ?" She smiled satirically.
"What has become of your memory, my dear ?" she asked.

"What were you afraid of?
You certainly never said a word to me of this poor man's deformity.

You felt yourself, I suppose, (just as Oscar felt himself), placed between a choice of difficulties.

On one side, my dislike of dark colors and dark people warned Oscar to hold his tongue.

On the other, my hatred of having advantage taken of my blindness to keep things secret from me, pressed him to speak out.