"See this face?" he inquired with deadly offensiveness, thrusting forward his countenance for exhibition.
"Take it away," said the other.
"Hit it," said Peter.
"I shall if you don't take it away."
"Just you hit it."
Peter's enemy did hit it. Immediately a ring was formed. Peter fell back into his mood of indifference to the world. This fight was a nuisance, but it had to go on.
They fought three vigorous rounds. From every court and alley spectators poured. Windows were flung up.
Then a policeman was seen, and in ten seconds the street was empty again. Peter jogged off to the main road. The roughs scattered into holes.
Peter, late for school, came up for inspection with a swollen lip and an eye which became more remarkable as time went on. But pain this morning meant as little to Peter as reproof. He was unable to take things seriously. He felt curiously above them.