Without hesitancy or compunction, only revolted at the thought of such
contact with such matter, I smashed her down. The Boss and Mick freed
themselves together and embraced each other willingly. Twinetoes was
playing skittles with the remaining dock rats. There was surprisingly
little noise. No one shouted. There was no howling hounding on of each
other. All but the girl were absorbed in the immediate business of
giving or warding off of blows.
"Dress, quick!" I said to the girl.
The fight had shifted to the centre, and her bed had remained unmoved,
herself unmolested. In wondering silence she obeyed. "Quicker!
Quicker!" I enjoined, with a new brutal note in my voice. The reaction
had set in. I could cheerfully have shoved her down the stairs and
flung her garments after her.
The kip was hidden away in a dark alley, the history and reputation of
which were shudderingly doubtful, but there were police within
dangerous hailing distance. The girl's lips began to quiver. Supposing
she broke down and raised the court by hysterical howling! "Don't
breathe a sound, or we'll leave you to it," I threatened.
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