The man, a rather large fellow who looked like he punched mountains for sport, swung around to face the doctor with a snarl. "Ya talkin' to me, pussy?" he asked, booze heavy on his breath. And though the doctor was tall, the man towered a good foot over him and clutched his wine bottle like he was ready to club the fellow with it.
"Oh, heaven's no! He was talking to me!"
It was at that moment that Valor, in all his noble finery, swept in, throwing an arm around the doctor's waist and flashing brilliant white teeth at the brutish man. In his free hand he held a bouquet of pink camellias that he had been intending on delivering to a lady he was intent on wooing into his bed, but instead he smiled and delicately sniffed the blossoms.
"He was telling me to watch these. Are you blind? No matter, we've no time to be dallying with riff-raff! Come along, now, honey," he said, and tugged the doctor along with him and out of the (now puzzled) big man's range.