My darling, you would be rather ashamed of me today. I got into a row with one of the boys. While my intentions were far less than honourable, I did indeed fight a young man. Do you recall the Yorke boy that I told you of, well, he and I got into a physical altercation. One of my own men had the nerve to punch me, and then the Yorke boy got one hit to my nose, yet I got the last laugh. I hit Yorke in the stomach and he was unable to stand.
I did this because he found out that Adrian, his elder brother, was killed. He cried and cried like a young girl, but if anyone is going to associate with me, then they must be able to maintain some sort of masculinity. I don't deal with effeminate young men, especially not one who cries on the very mention of death.
So, Ada Valentine, the history teacher, eventually interfered and sent me into a room with her. She's quite the dishonest one - she gives me such standard answers when I ask her a simple, closed question, yet she still insists on being dishonest with me. I'll deal with her and the young Moriarti boy who hit me later.
After the confrontation, I went to the turrets to smoke a cigar. The younger Everett twin, Ashley, had enough nerve to approach me asking what my reason was for chastising James. I told him the truth, and he continued on a tirade about how society would never accept me.
Have I ever been the person to care about society accepting me or not? Depending on acceptance makes people weak and fickle. Society is full of fools and social climbers, and, compared to the 'new money' Americans, the British nobility is practically impoverished.
It is terribly entertaining, my love.