MAUD. I--er--I thought they all faked fights when there was enough in
it.
FITZSIMMONS. Not the best ones.
MAUD. Did you--er--ever fake a fight?
FITZSIMMONS. [Looking at her sharply, then speaking solemnly.] Yes.
Once.
MAUD. [Shocked, speaking sadly.] And I always heard of you and thought
of you as the one clean champion who never faked.
FITZSIMMONS. [Gently and seriously.] Let me tell you about it. It was
down in Australia. I had just begun to fight my way up. It was with old
Bill Hobart out at Rushcutters Bay. I threw the fight to him.
MAUD. [Repelled, disgusted.] Oh! I could not have believed it of you.
FITZSIMMONS. Let me tell you about it. Bill was an old fighter. Not an
old man, you know, but he'd been in the fighting game a long time. He
was about thirty-eight and a gamer man never entered the ring. But he
was in hard luck. Younger fighters were coming up, and he was being
crowded out. At that time it wasn't often he got a fight and the purses
were small.
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