He relaxed his hold, in surprise and relief. And with her
eyes on that spot barely two inches to the side of the chin
she brought her right arm down, slowly, slowly, fist
doubled, and then up like a piston--snap! His teeth came
together with a sharp little crack. His face, in that
second, was a comic mask, surprised, stunned, almost
idiotic. Then he went down, as Clarence Heyl had predicted,
limp. Not with a crash, but slowly, crumpingly, so that he
almost dragged her with him.
Fanny stood looking down at him a moment. Then she wiped
her mouth with the back of her hand. She walked out of the
room, and down the hall. She saw the little Jap dart
suddenly back from a doorway, and she stamped her foot and
said, "S-s-cat!" as if he had been a rat. She gathered up
her hat and bag from the hall table, and so, out of the
door, and down the walk, to the road. And then she began to
run. She ran, and ran, and ran. It was a longish stretch
to the pretty, vine-covered station. She seemed unconscious
of fatigue, or distance.
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