Part 4 (1/2)
Pollyooly gazed at him doubtfully. Flossie's account of Mr.
b.u.t.terwick's prowess had impressed her too deeply to permit her to believe that anything but painful ignominious defeat awaited Hilary Vance at his hands.
”But he blacks people's eyes and makes their noses bleed,” protested Pollyooly.
”I'll tear him limb from limb!” roared Hilary Vance, still ferociously, but with less conviction in his tone.
”And he doesn't care how big anybody is, if they don't know how to box,” Pollyooly insisted.
”No more do I!” roared Hilary Vance.
He stamped up and down the studio yet more vigorously since his aching toes were growing easier. Then he sank into a chair--a stronger chair--gingerly; and in a more moderate tone said:
”I'll have the scoundrel's blood. I'll teach him to cross my path.”
He paused, considering the matter more coldly, and Pollyooly anxiously watched his working face. Little by little it grew calmer.
”After all it may not be the scoundrel's fault,” he said in a tone of some magnanimity. ”I know what women are--treachery for treachery's sake. Why should I destroy the poor wretch whose heart has probably been as scored as mine by the discovery of her treachery? He is a fellow victim.”
”And perhaps you mightn't destroy him--if he's such a good boxer,” said Pollyooly anxiously.
”I should certainly destroy him,” said Hilary Vance with a dignified certainty. ”But to what purpose? Would it give me back my unstained ideal? No. The ideal once tarnished never s.h.i.+nes as bright again.”
His face was now calm--calm and growing sorrowful. Then a sudden apprehension appeared on it:
”Besides--suppose I broke a finger--a finger of my right hand. Why should I give this blackguard a chance of maiming me?” he cried, and looked at Pollyooly earnestly.
”I don't know, Mr. Vance,” said Pollyooly, answering the question in his urgent eyes.
”If I did break a finger, it might be weeks--months before I could work again. Why, I might never be able to work again!” he cried.
”That's just what Mr. James was afraid of,” said Pollyooly.
”Mr. James! Has he been here?” cried Hilary Vance; and there was far more uneasiness than pleasure in his tone on thus hearing of his friend's return.
”Yes. He came to know if you were engaged yet,” said Pollyooly.
”Oh, did he?” said Hilary Vance very glumly.
”Yes. And I told him you weren't.”
”That's right,” he said in a tone of relief.
”And he said we must stop the affray.”
”He was right. It would be criminal,” said Hilary Vance solemnly.
”After all it isn't myself: I have to consider posterit--”
A sudden, very loud knocking on the front door cut short the word.
”That's him!” said Pollyooly in a hushed voice.