"See here, Fairfax, she sent me. She ain't hurt much, just a damned nasty bruise. I gave her my promise not to stick a knife into you."
Fairfax pushed up his sleeves; his arms were white as snow. He had lost flesh.
"I'll fight you right here, Sanders," he said, "and we'll not make a sound. I'm not as fit as you are, but I'll punish you less for that reason. Come on."
Molly's lover put his hand in his pockets because he was afraid to leave them out. He shook his head.
"I gave the girl my word, and I'd rather please Molly than break every bone in your —— body, and that's saying a good deal. And here on my own hook I want to ask you a plain question."
"I shan't answer it, Sandy."
The other with singular patience returned, "All right. I'm going to ask just the same. Are you ... will you ... what the hell...!" he exclaimed.
"Don't go on," said Fairfax; "shut up and go home."
Instead, Sanders took off his hat, a sign of unusual excitement with him. He wiped his face and said huskily—