Liza stood in front of her, pale and trembling; as she looked at her enemy, and saw the long red marks of her nails, with blood coming from one or two of them, she shrank back.
'I don't want ter fight,' she said hoarsely.
'Na, I don't suppose yer do,' hissed the other, 'but yer'll damn well 'ave ter!'
'She's ever so much bigger than me; I've got no chanst,' added Liza tearfully.
'You should 'ave thought of thet before. Come on!' and with these words Mrs. Blakeston rushed upon her. She hit her with both fists one after the other. Liza did not try to guard herself, but imitating the woman's motion, hit out with her own fists; and for a minute or two they continued thus, raining blows on one another with the same windmill motion of the arms. But Liza could not stand against the other woman's weight; the blows came down heavy and rapid all over her face and head. She put up her hands to cover her face and turned her head away, while Mrs. Blakeston kept on hitting mercilessly.
'Time!' shouted some of the men—'Time!' and Mrs. Blakeston stopped to rest herself.
'It don't seem 'ardly fair to set them two on tergether. Liza's got no chanst against a big woman like thet,' said a man among the crowd.
'Well, it's er' own fault,' answered a woman; 'she didn't oughter mess about with 'er 'usbind.'
'Well, I don't think it's right,' added another man. 'She's gettin' it too much.'
'An' serve 'er right too!' said one of the women. 'She deserves all she gets an' a damn sight more inter the bargain.'