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Thurston, E. Temple (Ernest Temple), 1879-1933

"Sally Bishop A Romance"

Just what I said--Japanese dancing mice."
So they sidled, ridiculous to see, had it not been in such vivid
earnest. Now one feinted a blow, then the next. At each lurching
attempt Sally caught the breath in her throat. It freed itself
automatically with the lack of tension.
At last in a moment of over-balance--a blow from one of them that
struck air and pitched the striker forward--they rushed together,
each grunting like swine as the breath was driven out of them. Sally
clutched the curtain at her side. Her fingers tore at the fabric.
"Break away, break away!" called the master; and when neither of them
loosed his hold for fear the other would strike, he took him whom
they called Jim by the shoulder and pushed him bodily backwards. The
other followed him with a blow like the arm of a windmill in a gale.
Traill chuckled with delight between his hands.
"Time!" called the master, and Jim, striking a futile blow that
glanced harmlessly off the shoulder of his opponent, at which the
little ring sent up its titter of laughter, they returned to their
attendants.
Traill looked round. "What I said, you see," he remarked; "not one
blow went home in the first round.


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