"I dunno …; he is rather a swine, anyway."
"Yes, but how does she know that?"
This was a poser, and Ishmael failed at an answer beyond a feeble "Oh, well, because he is."
"If he's been a cad to her—" muttered Killigrew, vengefully.
"I don't know how he can have been; she's only seen him with us. But I don't know what you'd do about it if he had; you can't lick him; he's twice your size and weight."
"Would you never fight unless you were sure of winning?" demanded
Killigrew scornfully. Ishmael thought a minute.
"I think it is that I never fight until I'm sure of winning," he said at last; "if I found I wasn't strong enough I wouldn't go in and be beaten; I'd train hard till I was and then fight."
"But that might take ages and you'd forget what you wanted to fight the chap about."
"I don't think I'd forget, if I'd wanted to fight him. I might, though,
I suppose…."
"You're all wrong, you know," opined Killigrew; "'tisn't the winning that really matters … sounds silly, but I don't know how to explain it."