“I’ve got more important things to think about for the minute.”

Neddy helped himself to a cigarette.

“Growing quite the man of business,” he said.  “What will power you’ve got!  A few of us bet five to one you wouldn’t stick it a month; but here you are.  Only I can tell you this, Ray:  you’re wilting under it.  You’re not half the man you were.  You’re getting beastly thin—­looking a worm in fact.”

Raymond laughed.

“I’m all right.  Plenty of time to make up for lost time.”

“It’s metal more attractive, I believe,” hazarded Motyer.  “A little bird’s been telling us things in Bridport.  Keep clear of the petticoats, old chap—­the game’s never worth the candle.  I speak from experience.”

“Do you?  I shouldn’t think any girl would have much use for you.”

“Oh yes, they have—­plenty of them.  But once bit, twice shy.  I had an adventure last year.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Neddy showed concern.

“You’re all over the shop, Ray.  These blessed works are knocking the stuffing out of you and spoiling your temper.  Are you coming to the ‘smoker’ at ‘The Tiger’ next month?”

“No.”

“Well, do.  You want bucking.  It’ll be a bit out of the common.  Jack Buckler’s training at ‘The Tiger’ for his match with Solly Blades.  You know—­eliminating round for middle-weight championship.  And he’s going to spar three rounds with our boy from the tannery—­Tim Chick.”

“I heard about it from one of our girls here—­a cousin of Tim’s.  But I’m off that sort of thing.”

“Since when?”

“You can’t understand, Ned; but life’s too short for everything.  Perhaps you’ll have to turn to work someday.  Then you’ll know.”

“You don’t work from eight o’clock at night till eleven anyway.  Take my tip and come to the show and make a night of it.  Waldron’s going to be there.  He’s hunting this morning.”

“I know.”

The dinner bell had rung and now there came a knock at Raymond’s door.  Then Sabina entered and was departing again, but her lover bade her stay.

“Don’t go, Sabina.  This is my friend, Mr. Motyer—­Miss Dinnett.”

Motyer, remembering Raymond’s recent snub, was exceedingly charming to Sabina.  He stopped and chatted another five minutes, then mentioned the smoking concert again and so took his departure.  Raymond spoke slightingly of him when he had gone.

“He’s no good, really,” he said.  “An utter waster and only a hanger-on of sport—­can’t do anything himself but talk.  Now he’ll tell everybody in Bridport about you coming up here in the dinner-hour.  Come and cheer me up.  I’m bothered to death.”

He kissed her and put his arms round her, but she would not stop.

“I can’t stay here,” she said.  “I want to walk up the hill with you.  If you’re bothered, so am I, my darling.”

He put on his hat and they went out together.