They went out. It was a black moonless night. They stood near the lit window.
'Draw the blind up!' shouted Reddin.
Hazel drew it up. They faced each other in the square of light. They were both quite collected. It seemed difficult to begin. The humour of this struck Reddin, and he laughed.
Edward looked at him disgustedly. Reddin began to feel a fool.
'We must begin,' he said.
Seeing that Edward was waiting for him to strike the first blow, and not being angry enough to do so, Reddin said coarsely:
'No good fighting, parson! She's mine—from head to foot.'
He received as good a blow as Edward was capable of. They fought with hard-drawn breath, for they were neither of them in training. To Edward it seemed ridiculous to be fighting; to Reddin it seemed ridiculous to be fighting such an opponent.
They moved out of the light and back again in the tense silence of the night. A rat splashed in the pool, and silence fell again.
Edward could not do much more than defend himself, and Reddin's eyes shone triumphantly. Within, Hazel leaned against the glass faintly. It was as if evil and good, angels and devils, fought for her. And whichever won, she was equally forlorn. She did not want heaven; she wanted earth and the green ways of earth.