Somewhat belatedly, Goodsir realises he's been something less than entirely polite to the lady who has saved his skin—neglectful of etiquette, anyway. Abashed, he digs out a handkerchief and wipes his hands, gets to his feet and bows.

"I am most grateful to you for your help in that, Miss Metz," he says—again, keeping his eyes rather determinedly on her face. "Without you, I should have very likely been seriously injured, if not worse. I hope I may repay the favour in some way, someday."