and watch a bunch of cheeses like this new crop of middle-weights
swelling around and calling themselves fighters when they couldn't lick
a postage-stamp, not if it was properly trained. Hell! Beg pardon,
ma'am."

"I find you an interesting study, Mr. Dingle," said Mrs. Porter
thoughtfully. "I have never met a pugilist before. Do you box with Mr.
Winfield?"

"Sure. Kirk and me go five rounds every morning."

"You have been boxing with him to-day? Then perhaps you can tell me if
an absurd young man in eye-glasses has called here yet? He is wearing a
grey----"

"Do you mean Bailey, ma'am. Bailey Bannister?"

"You know my nephew, Mr. Dingle?"

"Sure. I box with him every morning."

"I never expected to hear that my nephew Bailey did anything so
sensible as to take regular exercise. He does not look as if he did."

"He certainly is a kind o' half-portion, ma'am. But say, if he's your
nephew, Miss Ruth's your niece."

"Perfectly correct."

"Then you know all about this business?"