“Steak, when I can get it. But that’s not often,”
“Married’?”
“No. But I expect to be”
“What’s her name?”
“Nora Speight. She wants me to take back some nylons and a swim suit such as they wear in Hollywood.”
“How much money have you made fighting?”
He looked steadily at his questioner. The others squirmed at the crudeness of the question.
“I beg your pardon?” he said.
The reporter said:
“Have you any money’?”
Woodcock’s eyebrows went up. His voice, which had been warm and friendly, was cold.
“I have a pound or two,” he said.
He turned to another reporter.
“What did you say?” he asked, his voice friendly again.
“What do you know about Mauriello. Bruce?”
“Not much. I’ll know more after the fight.”
“How about Joe Louis?”
Tom Hurst (Woodcock's manager) had remained silent during the interview. Now he beat the fighter to the answer.
“We’re here to fight Mauriello,” he said. “Louie can wait.”
