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The Game
by Jack London
CHAPTER I
Many patterns of carpet lay rolled out before them on the floortwo
of Brussels showed the beginning of their quest； and its ending in
that direction； while a score of ingrains lured their eyes and
prolonged the debate between desire pocket…book。 The head of the
department did them the honor of waiting upon them himselfor did
Joe the honor； as she well knew； for she had noted the open…mouthed
awe of the elevator boy who brought them up。 Nor had she been blind
to the marked respect shown Joe by the urchins and groups of young
fellows on corners； when she walked with him in their own
neighborhood down at the west end of the town。
But the head of the department was called away to the telephone； and
in her mind the splendid promise of the carpets and the irk of the
pocket…book were thrust aside by a greater doubt and anxiety。
〃But I don't see what you find to like in it； Joe；〃 she said softly；
the note of insistence in her words betraying recent and
unsatisfactory discussion。
For a fleeting moment a shadow darkened his boyish face； to be
replaced by the glow of tenderness。 He was only a boy； as she was
only a girltwo young things on the threshold of life； house…
renting and buying carpets together。
〃What's the good of worrying？〃 he questioned。 〃It's the last go；
the very last。〃
He smiled at her； but she saw on his lips the unconscious and all
but breathed sigh of renunciation； and with the instinctive monopoly
of woman for her mate； she feared this thing she did not understand
and which gripped his life so strongly。
〃You know the go with O'Neil cleared the last payment on mother's
house；〃 he went on。 〃And that's off my mind。 Now this last with
Ponta will give me a hundred dollars in bankan even hundred；
that's the pursefor you and me to start on； a nest…egg。〃
She disregarded the money appeal。 〃But you like it； thisthis
'game' you call it。 Why？〃
He lacked speech…expression。 He expressed himself with his hands；
at his work； and with his body and the play of his muscles in the
squared ring； but to tell with his own lips the charm of the squared
ring was beyond him。 Yet he essayed； and haltingly at first； to
express what he felt and analyzed when playing the Game at the
supreme summit of existence。
〃All I know； Genevieve； is that you feel good in the ring when
you've got the man where you want him； when he's had a punch up both
sleeves waiting for you and you've never given him an opening to
land 'em； when you've landed your own little punch an' he's goin'
groggy； an' holdin' on； an' the referee's dragging him off so's you
can go in an' finish 'm； an' all the house is shouting an' tearin'
itself loose； an' you know you're the best man； an' that you played
m' fair an' won out because you're the best man。 I tell you〃
He ceased brokenly； alarmed by his own volubility and by Genevieve's
look of alarm。 As he talked she had watched his face while fear
dawned in her own。 As he described the moment of moments to her； on
his inward vision were lined the tottering man； the lights； the
shouting house； and he swept out and away from her on this tide of
life that was beyond her comprehension； menacing； irresistible；
making her love pitiful and weak。 The Joe she knew receded； faded；
became lost。 The fresh boyish face was gone； the tenderness of the
eyes； the sweetness of the mouth with its curves and pictured
corners。 It was a man's face she saw； a face of steel； tense and
immobile； a mouth of steel； the lips like the jaws of a trap； eyes
of steel； dilated； intent； and the light in them and the glitter
were the light and glitter of steel。 The face of a man； and she had
known only his boy face。 This face she did not know at all。
And yet； while it frightened her； she was vaguely stirred with pride
in him。 His masculinity； the masculinity of the fighting male； made
its inevitable appeal to her； a female； moulded by all her heredity
to seek out the strong man for mate； and to lean against the wall of
his strength。 She did not understand this force of his being that
rose mightier than her love and laid its compulsion upon him； and
yet； in her woman's heart she was aware of the sweet pang which told
her that for her sake； for Love's own sake； he had surrendered to
her； abandoned all that portion of his life； and with this one last
fight would never fight again。
〃Mrs。 Silverstein doesn't like prize…fighting；〃 she said。 〃She's
down on it； and she knows something； too。〃
He smiled indulgently； concealing a hurt； not altogether new； at her
persistent inappreciation of this side of his nature and life in
which he took the greatest pride。 It was to him power and
achievement； earned by his own effort and hard work； and in the
moment when he had offered himself and all that he was to Genevieve；
it was this； and this alone； that he was proudly conscious of laying
at her feet。 It was the merit of work performed； a guerdon of
manhood finer and greater than any other man could offer； and it had
been to him his justification and right to possess her。 And she had
not understood it then； as she did not understand it now； and he
might well have wondered what else she found in him to make him
worthy。
〃Mrs。 Silverstein is a dub； and a softy； and a knocker；〃 he said
good…humoredly。 〃What's she know about such things； anyway？ I tell
you it IS good； and healthy； too；〃this last as an afterthought。
〃Look at me。 I tell you I have to live clean to be in condition
like this。 I live cleaner than she does； or her old man； or anybody
you knowbaths； rub…downs； exercise； regular hours； good food and
no makin' a pig of myself； no drinking； no smoking； nothing that'll
hurt me。 Why； I live cleaner than you； Genevieve〃
〃Honest； I do；〃 he hastened to add at sight of her shocked face。 〃I
don't mean water an' soap； but look there。〃 His hand closed
reverently but firmly on her arm。 〃Soft； you're all soft； all over。
Not like mine。 Here； feel this。〃
He pressed the ends of her fingers into his hard arm…muscles until
she winced from the hurt。
〃Hard all over just like that；〃 he went on。 〃Now that's what I call
clean。 Every bit of flesh an' blood an' muscle is clean right down
to the bonesand they're clean； too。 No soap and water only on the
skin； but clean all the way in。 I tell you it feels clean。 It
knows it's clean itself。 When I wake up in the morning an' go to
work； every drop of blood and bit of meat is shouting right out that
it is clean。 Oh； I tell you〃
He paused with swift awkwardness； again confounded by his unwonted
flow of speech。 Never in his life had he been stirred to such
utterance； and never in his life had there been cause to be so
stirred。 For it was the Game that had been questioned； its verity
and worth； the Game itself； the biggest thing in the worldor what
had been the biggest thing in the world until that chance afternoon
and that chance purchase in Silverstein's candy store； when
Genevieve loomed suddenly colossal in his life； overshadowing all
other things。 He was beginning to see； though vaguely； the sharp
conflict between woman and career； between a man's work in the world
and woman's need of the man。 But he was not capable of
generalization。 He saw only the antagonism between the concrete；
flesh…and…blood Genevieve and the great； abstract； living Game。
Each resented the other； each claimed him； he was torn with the
strife； and yet drifted helpless on the currents of their
contention。
His words had drawn Genevieve's gaze to his face； and she had
pleasured in the clear skin； the clear eyes； the cheek soft and
smooth as a girl's。 She saw the force of his argument and disliked
it accordingly。 She revolted instinctively against this Game which
drew him away from her； robbed her of part of him。 It was a rival