He turned to look over his shabby tweed shoulder at Boy Bailey and addressed him curtly.
"You can go now," he said.
Boy Bailey sat up awkwardly, with an expression of pain, as though it hurt him to move. He had not yet mastered the change in the state of affairs and attempted to temporize till matters should define themselves.
"I 've got to see first if I can stand," he said. "It's all very well, but you can't slam a man down on his funny-bone and then order him to do the goose-step."
"Hurry," said the Kafir.
Mr. Bailey passed an exploring hand about his shoulder. "Ouch!" He winced. "Broken bone," he explained. "You say you 're a doctor—see for yourself. And anyhow, I want a word in private with the lady."
Kamis took two deliberate steps in his direction and—
"Hey!" yelled Boy Bailey, and scrambled to his feet. "What d'you kick me like that for, you black swine?"
He backed before the Kafir, with spread hands in agitated protestation.
"Kickin' a man when he 's down," he cried. "Is that a game to play? All right, all right; I 'm goin', aren't I? You keep where you are and let me turn round. No, you stop first. I 'm not goin' to be kicked again like that if I can help it."