It hurts their feelin's.

Don't you forget that, sir.
Lay that up in your mind.' Now the postillion having thus relieved himself, jeeringly asked permission to smoke a pipe.

To which Evan said, 'Pray, smoke, if it pleases you.' And the postillion, hardly mollified, added, 'The baccy's paid for,' and smoked.
As will sometimes happen, the feelings of the man who had spoken out and behaved doubtfully, grew gentle and Christian, whereas those of the man whose bearing under the trial had been irreproachable were much the reverse.

The postillion smoked--he was a lord on his horse; he beheld my gentleman trudging in the dust.

Awhile he enjoyed the contrast, dividing his attention between the footfarer and moon.