“But is it a question of that?” she said, a little annoyed.

“You say a man’s got no brain, when he’s a fool: and no heart, when he’s mean; and no stomach when he’s a funker. And when he’s got none of that spunky wild bit of a man in him, you say he’s got no balls. When he’s sort of tame.”

She pondered this.

“And is Clifford tame?” she asked.

“Tame, and nasty with it: like most such fellows, when you come up against ’em.”

“And do you think you’re not tame?”

“Maybe not quite!”

At length she saw in the distance a yellow light.

She stood still.