Harry," Bob drawled, his eye lights flickering smugly, "what you know about women, I could juggle.
It is not the conscience which raises a blush, for a man may sincerely regret some slight fault committed in solitude, or he may suffer the deepest remorse for an undetected crime, but he will not blush. . . It is not the sense of guilt, but the thought that others think or know us to be guilty which crimsons the face.