The perspiration was on Willitts' forehead in beads, he was whitening round the mouth. Putting his face close down to mine he breathed out through his teeth:
"What in 'ell do you want?"
"You!" I cried and out of the tail of my eye I saw a taxi shoot round the corner from Fifth Avenue. Willitts drew away from me, shrunk together for a race. I saw it and I knew even now, with O'Malley plunging through the traffic, it might be too late. Embracing is not my strong suit, no man but my lawful husband ever felt my arms about him. But duty's a strong word with me and then my sporting blood was up. So with my teeth set, I just made a lunge at that crook and clasped him like an octopus.
I didn't know a man was so much stronger than a woman. Willitts wasn't much taller than I and he was a thin little shrimp, but believe me, he was as tough as leather and as slippery as an eel. I could see the two boys, delighted, drinking it in, and a dray man in a jumper, drop a crate and come up on the run, bawling: "Say, you feller, let the lady alone," The boys chorused out: "Aw, keep out—it's the movies!" Willitts must have heard too, and I guess he saw his chance, for he suddenly squirmed one arm loose, and whang! came a blow on the side of my head. It might have seemed part of the play but he did it too hard—calculated wrong in his excitement. I let go, seeing everything—the houses, the sky, the crowd that seemed to start up out of the pavements—whirling round and shot over with zigzags. There was a roaring noise in my ears and all about, and I dropped over into somebody's arms, things getting swimmy and dark.
When I came out of it I was sitting on a packing box with a man fanning me and O'Malley, red as a tomato and Willitts the color of ashes in the middle of a mob. There was a terrible hubbub, people jamming together, the wagons stopped and the drivers yelling to know what was up, heads out of every window, and then two policemen, fighting their way through. I felt queer, sickish, and as if the muscles of my face were all slack so my mouth wouldn't stay shut. But the gentleman fanning me acted awful kind and a clerk came out of a store with ice water and a wet handkerchief that he patted soft on the side of my head.
I could see O'Malley and the policeman (they'd come from headquarters I heard afterward) go off into a vestibule with Willitts and the crowd that couldn't get a look-in came squeezing round me, heads peering up over heads. They'd got the idea that Willitts was my husband, seeming to think only a lawful spouse would dare to hit a woman before witnesses in the public street. The guys in the front were explaining it to the guys in the back and calling Willitts names I couldn't put down in these refined pages.
It got me laughing, especially when an old Jew who had been sizing me up like a piece of goods nodded slow and solemn and said: "And she ain'd zo bad lookin' neither." I burst right out at that and the man with the fan waved his arms at them, shouting:
"Give way there—back—back! She wants air—she's hysterical. She's gone through more than she can bear."
Gee, how I laughed!
Presently in the center of a surging mass we crowded our way to the taxi, the policemen going in front and hitting round light with their clubs. O'Malley with Willitts handcuffed to him got in the back seat, me opposite, with my hat off, holding the handkerchief against my head. As we pulled out I looked back over the sea of faces and caught the eye of one of the policemen. He straightened up, very serious and dignified, and saluted.