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Cheese-Face wanted to demur, Martin could see that, but Cheese-Face's old perilous pride was touched before the two gangs. "Aw, come on," he replied. "Wot's the good of chewin' de rag about it? I'm wit' cheh to de finish." Then they fell upon each other, like young bulls, in all the glory of youth, with naked fists, with hatred, with desire to hurt, to maim, to destroy.
"I seen you, an' I was wonderin' what you was up to. If you try anything like that again, I'll beat cheh to death. Understand?" They fought on, through exhaustion and beyond, to exhaustion immeasurable and inconceivable, until the crowd of brutes, its blood-lust sated, terrified by what it saw, begged them impartially to cease.
"I knew you was lyin', but you look good to me just the same." He captured the hand that invited, and felt on the palm familiar markings and distortions. "When'd you chuck the cannery?" he asked. "How'd yeh know?" and, "My, ain't cheh a mind-reader!" the girls chorussed.
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