As soon as he met with opposition his power of repartee seemed to desert him and Whistler, using mere rudeness and man-of-the-world sharpness, held the field.

Oscar was evidently not a born fighter.
I asked him once how it was he let Whistler off so lightly.

He shrugged his shoulders and showed some irritation.
"What could I say, Frank?
Why should I belabour the beaten?
The man is a wasp and delights in using his sting.

I have done more perhaps than anyone to make him famous.

I had no wish to hurt him." Was it magnanimity or weakness or, as I think, a constitutional, a feminine shrinking from struggle and strife.