She gazed at him — and saw two men, not one, within this man she loved. One was the fresh, boyish Joe, with tenderness in his eyes and hesitancy in his touch and smile . . . And the other was the tense man with steel in eye and jaw — the Joe of the prize-fighting ring. And it was this part of him — the one created with his own sweat and blood — he was offering to lay down, for love of Genevieve. But only after one more chance — one last fight! Then he would never enter the ring again!