With a simultaneous movement each raised his right and shot it lumberingly forward, past the hazy, confronting head, fruitlessly into the air. Renewed whispers, dangerously loud, arose:
"Now's your chance, Gutter Pup!"
"Draw off and smash him!"
"He's all yours, Lovely!"
"Oh, Lovely, hit him! hit him!"
"Just once!"
They neither heard nor cared. Their arms locked lovingly about their shoulders, and they began to settle. New cries:
"Break away!"
"Don't let him pull you down!"
"Keep your feet, Lovely!"