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

"Sally Bishop A Romance"

Yet they're fanning them with
towels--ridiculous, isn't it?" In the excitement of his interest,
he spoke to her as though she were as well acquainted with the manners
of the ring as he.
Once more they were called into the open. Once more they slouched
forward with the advice that their backers had poured into their ears
still gyrating in a wild confusion in their minds. That one minute
had seemed interminable to Sally; yet she realized how small a speck
of time it must have appeared to them.
"Do you think they'll hit each other this time?" she whispered.
"Well, let's hope so," said Traill. "It's pretty dull as it is.
There isn't much sport in this sort of thing if you can't hit straight.
Oh, one of them'll land a blow presently. They want warming, that's
all."
His words sounded far away but absolutely distinct. She scarcely
recognized in them the man whom she had been talking to but half an
hour before. His whole expression of speech was different. The lust
of this spirit of animalism was uppermost. He was a different being;
yet still she clung to him. "There's a beast in every man, thank God!"
Just those few words chased in circles through her brain.


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