The couple of lamps that the yard
provided, lit up their skin--sickly yellow--and the surrounding
houses flung shadows in confusion.
"They'll have a job to hit straight," said Traill, tensely. His eyes
were riveted before him. He did not look at her, did not see her white,
drawn face. She raised her head, gazing at the black, leaden patch
of sky that was to be seen through the muddle of roofs and walls.
A wondering crossed her mind of all the horrible sights and scenes
that were being enacted under that same impenetrable curtain of
darkness which hung over everything. She rubbed her hand across her
eyes, but could not wipe it out.
When she looked back again, the men were surrounded by their little
groups of supporters--not more than half a dozen in each party. All
but the two combatants were talking in excited undertones--giving
advice--saying what they would do--standing on tiptoe and talking
over each other's shoulders--pushing those away who came between
them and the expression of their own opinions. And in the centre of
each of these groups stood the two who were about to be at each other's
throats. Except for their bared shoulders, dazzling patches of light
against the dark clothes of the men surrounding them--they looked
the least aggressive in the crowd.
Pages:
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195