'Got 'im again!' they shouted. 'Give it 'er, Liza, thet's a good 'un!—'it 'er 'ard!'
'Two ter one on the old 'un!' shouted a sporting gentleman; but Liza found no backers.
'Ain't she standin' up well now she's roused?' cried someone.
'Oh, she's got some pluck in 'er, she 'as!'
'Thet's a knock-aht!' they shouted as Mrs. Blakeston brought her fist down on to Liza's nose; the girl staggered back, and blood began to flow. Then, losing all fear, mad with rage, she made a rush on her enemy, and rained down blows all over her nose and eyes and mouth. The woman recoiled at the sudden violence of the onslaught, and the men cried:
'By God, the little 'un's gettin' the best of it!'
But quickly recovering herself the woman closed with Liza, and dug her nails into her flesh. Liza caught hold of her hair and pulled with all her might, and turning her teeth on Mrs. Blakeston tried to bite her. And thus for a minute they swayed about, scratching, tearing, biting, sweat and blood pouring down their faces, and their eyes fixed on one another, bloodshot and full of rage. The audience shouted and cheered and clapped their hands.
'Wot the 'ell's up 'ere?'
'I sy, look there,' said some of the women in a whisper. 'It's the 'usbind!'