"I reckon she saw how disapp'inted I was that day," he said. After a
pause he added, "Women brood over such things, I b'lieve: for years,
I'm told. 'Tis their unsearchable natur'."

"William Dendle, I wish you'd speak truth."

"What have I said that's false?"

"Nuthin': an' you've said nuthin' that's true. I charge 'ee to tell
me the facts about that hitch of our'n."

"You're a hard man, Sam Badgery. I hope, though, you've been soft to
your wife. I mind--if you _must_ have the tale--how you played very
rough that day. There was a slim young chap--Nathan Oke, his name
was--that stood up to you i' the second round. He wasn' ha'f your
match: you might ha' pitched en flat-handed. An' yet you must needs
give en the 'flyin' mare.' Your maid's face turned lily-white as he
dropped. Two of his ribs went _cr-rk!_ and his collar-bone--you
could hear it right across the ring. I looked at her--she was close
beside me--an' saw the tears come: that's how I know the colour of
her eyes. Then there was that small blacksmith--you dropped en slap
on the tail of his spine. I wondered if you knew the mortal pain o'
bein' flung that way, an' I swore to mysel' that if we met i' the
last round, you should taste it.

"Well, we met, as you know. When I was stripped, an' the folks made
way for me to step into the ring, I saw her face again. 'Twas whiter
than ever, an' her eyes went over me in a kind o' terror. I reckon
it dawned on her that I might hurt you: but I didn' pay her much heed
at the time, for I lusted after the prize, an' I got savage. You was