'You trapped her; you would have betrayed her. But, thank God! a young girl's innocence is a wonderful and powerful thing.' Reddin was astounded. Could Marston really be such a fool as to believe in Hazel still? 'The innocent young girl--' he began, but Hazel struck him on the mouth. 'All right, spitfire!' he said; 'mum's the word.' He was surprisingly good-humoured. 'Well, Hazel'--Edward spoke in a matter-of-fact tone--'shall we go home now?' 'Dunnat ask me, Ed'ard! I mun bide.' 'Why?' Hazel was silent. She could not explain the strange instinct, stronger than her wildness, that Reddin had awakened in her, and that chained her here with invisible chains. 'Come home, little Hazel!' he pleaded. 'I canna,' she whispered. 'Why? You can if you want to. Don't you want to?' 'Ah! I do that.' She was torn between her longing to go and her powerlessness to leave Reddin. The light went out of Edward's face. 'Do you love this man?' he asked. 'No.' 'Does it make you better to live with him?' 'No. It was living with you as did that.' Reddin was so enraged that he struck her, and her expression of submission as she cowered under the blow was worse to Edward than the blow itself. He forgot his views about violence, and struck Reddin back. 'Come outside,' said Reddin in a tone of relief. The situation had now taken a comprehensible turn for him. 'If it's fighting you're after, I'm with you; that's settling it like gentlemen. What are you grinning at?' He spoke huffily. 'Dunna snab at each other! What for do you?' said Hazel. 'Because you're husband's jealous.' Edward was exasperated by the realization that his action in coming did look like that of the commonplace husband. But, after all, what did it matter? Nothing mattered but Hazel. He looked across at her crouched in the armchair sobbing. He went to her and patted her shoulder. 'No one's angry with you, dear,' he said. 'Afterwards, when we're home, you shall explain it all to me.' 'If you win!' put in Reddin. Edward stooped and kissed Hazel's hand. The momentary doubt of her--cruel as hell--had gone. She was his lady, and he was going to fight for her. Hazel looked up at him, and in that instant she almost loved him. 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.'