rtone. He
addressed the remark to Sally, but his face scarcely turned in her
direction. "You see, these chaps have a quarrel and they're going
to fight it out under rules and regulations. They've got this fellow
who knows something about boxing--at least I presume he does--to come
and manage the affair. Probably he knows nothing of the quarrel. He
expects them to shake hands, but I'm hanged if they're going to. By
Jove! There'll be a mess here if the police get to hear anything."

"But why should they shake hands if they're going to fight?" asked
Sally, forcing spurious interest. So she bled herself--sapping
vitality to give him pleasure. And he took it--as a man
will--unconscious of receiving anything.

"Why? Oh--it's the rules of boxing. The whole thing is supposed to
be done in a friendly spirit. These chaps down here would probably
cut each other's throats for a song. What's the good of their shaking
hands?"

The combatants were still standing reluctant. It seemed for the
moment as if the whole affair were about to topple over into a state
of confusion.

"Go on, Jim," urged one man in the ring; "shake 'ands wiv 'im. Damn
'is eyes--'e's a gen'leman--ain't 'e? Go 'arn, shake 'ands."

"Look 'ere," said the master, "if there's any of yer blasted bunkum
about this, yer can damn well see to it yourselves. I won't touch
yer bloody money."

The words shuddered through Sally's ears.

"Go 'arn, Jim, shake 'ands. Can't yer see 'e'll drop the 'ole bloomin'
show if yer don't, an' damn it, I've got a couple o' bob on yer. Shake
'ands, can't yer!"

Jim came reluctantly forward into the centre of the ring with a
knotted hand held grudgingly before them. The other took it and
dropped it as if it were filth.

"That's right," said the master, "now, come on. Two minutes a
round--minute wait. Not more 'n ten rounds. And God save us if the
coppers don't 'ave us by then. Come up--up with yer flippers! Time!"
He tipped a leering wink to the crowd.

The two men edged together, their arms bent in defensive, one
clenched fist held menacingly before them. Sally tried to take her
eyes away, but a morbid fascination held them. The anticipation of
that first blow dragged her as the butcher drags his sheep to the
shambles. Every glance she stole in their direction was reluctant;
but all power of volition seemed to have left her. The sight of those
two half-stripped bodies, gleaming in the gas-light, had
concentrated in her eyes. At