"I'm not taking leave of freedom. You godless bachelors don't know you're born."
"Bluff—bluff!" declared Neddy. "You can't deceive me, old sport."
"You wait till you find the right one."
"I shall," promised Neddy. "And very well content to wait. Nothing is easier than not to be married."
"Nothing is harder, my dear chap, if you're in love with the right girl."
Neddy felt the ground delicate. He knew that Raymond had knocked down a man for insulting him a week before, so he changed the subject.
"I thought you'd be at the fight," he said. "It was a pretty spar—interesting all through. Jack Buckler won. Blades practically let him. Not because he wanted to, but because Solly Blades has got a streak of softness in his make-up. That's fatal in a fighter. If you've got a gentle heart, it don't matter how clever you are: you can't take full advantage of your skill and use the opening when you've won it. Blades didn't punish Buckler's stupidity, or weakness just when he could have done it. So he lost, because he gave Jack time to get strong again; and when Blades in his turn went weak, Buckler got it over and outed him."
"Your heart often robs you of what your head won," said another man in the bar. "Life's like prize-fighting in that respect. If you don't hit other people when you can, the time will probably come when they'll hit you."
It was an ugly philosophy and Raymond, looking within, applied to it himself. Then he put his own thoughts away.
"And how are the gee-gees?" he asked.