There was silence again, and the Bull cut in with seeming indifference.
"How's your gell? When you gettin' married?"
A deep pause, and Cyril answered slowly.
"It's off. I ain't marryin'."
"Turned you down, did she? Huh! Well, what do you care? There's plenty good fish in the sea. There ain't nothing to bellyache about. When you get over to the States, you'll get all this female guff out of your bones. Women ain't no good, anyways. They ain't worth fretting about. They're a bad lot. Gimme cattle in preference."
He extended the plug of tobacco, which the boy ignored. His reddened eyes looked levelly into the Bull's, and he said sturdily:
"It's a lie what you said about women. They ain't bad!"