Piper--" said Oliver uncertainly, and then as
noises came to them that meant more than just talking, "_Get down that
fire-escape_!"
"I can't. Let go of me, Ollie. I mustn't Listen--something's up--something
bad! Get out of the way there, Ollie, I've got to go in! It _isn't_ your
funeral!"
"Well, it isn't going to be yours!" said Oliver through shut teeth--Ted's
last remark had, somehow been a little too irritating. He thought savagely
that there was only one way of dealing with completely honorable fools--Ted
shouldn't, by the Lord!---Oliver had gone to just a little too much trouble
in the last dozen hours to build Ted a happy home to let any of Ted's
personal wishes in the matter interrupt him now. He stepped back with a
gesture of defeat but his feet gripped at the floor like a boxer's and his
eyes fixed burningly on the point of Ted's jaw. Wait a split-second--he
wasn't near enough--now--_there_!
His fist landed exactly where he had meant it to and for an instant he felt
as if he had broken all the bones in his hand. Ted was back against the
wall, his mouth dropping open, his whole face frozen like a face caught
in a snapshot unawares to a sudden glare of immense and ludicrous
astonishment.
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