At your question you see me look over my shoulder at the portrait of a young woman hanging on the wall. She is nearly your same age, though to you I seem significantly older. You see me smile as i look at it and just a hint of a tear form in the corner of my right eye. My otherwise hardened face softens a little and my gaze looks back to you.  After a poignant moment I answer. "I was brought up to be a gentleman and besides you remind me of someone. Someone very dear. " My hand shakes just a little as I take the next spoonful of stew and hold it to your mouth.  You barely take the food when the serenity of the moment is interupted by the sound of gun fire and horses whineeing. I drop the spoon  "Stay here!" I shout as I pull a shotgun from the rack on the wall and charge out of the room. You hear the front door slam with a thud behind me as I leave the house. You hear yelling and several blasts from the shotgun then you smell smoke. After about an hour, I return to the room, my shirt soaked in blood and covered with black soot. The tension on my face eases noticeably as I realize your still in the room and safe. I sink into the chair and wipe my brow with my handkerchief. "you know miss ... I don't know your name." is all I manage to say.