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grinning confidently, like a man who plans an agreeable trick. A sudden
perception of impending indignities stung Denton.
"You leave 'im alone, Jim," said the swart man suddenly over the
blood-stained rag. "He ain't done nothing to you."
The albino's grin vanished. He stopped. He looked from one to the other.
It seemed to Denton that the swart man demanded the privilege of his
destruction. The albino would have been better.
"You leave 'im alone," said the swart man. "See? 'E's 'ad 'is licks."
A clattering bell lifted up its voice and solved the situation. The
albino hesitated. "Lucky for you," he said, adding a foul metaphor, and
turned with the others towards the press-room again. "Wait for the end
of the spell, mate," said the albino over his shoulder--an afterthought.
The swart man waited for the albino to precede him. Denton realised that
he had a reprieve.
The men passed towards an open door. Denton became aware of his duties,
and hurried to join the tail of the queue. At the doorway of the vaulted
gallery of presses a yellow-uniformed labour policeman stood ticking a
card. He had ignored the swart man's hæmorrhage.
"
Hurry up there!" he said to Denton.
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