"Eddie got more than he liked," said Hugh, with a grin.
"He did; an' it might have made him unable to go into the ring tonight. More than that, a man got hurt; just luck if his foot wasn't put out of business. There's two perfectly good Circus hands might have been unfit for work, just because you had a bit of private spite."
Hugh looked at him, horror-stricken.
"I—I didn't think of it that way. And I didn't know the man was so near."
Jeff's face was unyielding.
"You never looked. The Owner might just as well have been there, for all you knew: or any performer. You can't wriggle out of it: you worked off a grudge, an' you hurt two people."
Hugh looked at the ground miserably.
"Now you've got to soak it right into what brains you've got, that the Circus is the only thing that counts. It's just the same sort of thing we told you on the lorry when you were about ready to murder Joey. Circus first, last, an' all the time. No matter about yourself. If you want to make a success you've to learn to have no private feelings."
They were alone in the tent. Jeff's voice, usually low, had risen a little, and there was in it a ring that held Hugh's attention, making him forget that he was angry and puzzled. He looked up at him.
"Don't you ever have any?"
"Private feelings? Tons of 'em. But I've learned to stow 'em away, so deep that I've near forgotten ever I