She took a deep
breath as he rose slowly to his feet and came forward to meet his
man. Directly the shuffling sound of feet began again, she closed
her eyes once more, holding with fingers numbed and cold to the fringe
of the curtain beside her. All the sounds then trooped in pictures
before her mind. When she heard the stamp of the foot, the dull
slapping thud of the heavy blow, and the moaning rush of breath, she
saw that bleeding face falling out of the sickly lamplight into the
sooty shadows.
At last she could bear it no longer. Her imagination was gloating
in her mind over the horrors that it drew. She forced her eyes to
look. It was better to see the worst than conjure still worse terrors
in her mind. She let her sight rush to those two half-naked bodies;
it sped unerringly to the spot like a filing of iron to the magnet's
teeth.
Now Tucker had regained the advantage which that momentary
interruption of Traill's had lost him. His man was swaying before
him as a sack of sawdust swings inert to the vibrating motion of speed.
His blows were falling short and fast. No great force was behind them.
He had no time to give them force. But they were bewildering--the
stones of hail upon the naked eyes.
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