Chapter 39

The weapons were fists, bottles--and finger nails. It looked more dangerous than it was. Some blood flowed and one or two prostrate figures were to be seen, knocked out either by blows or by the fumes of etherized gin. I suspect the contestants fell down oftener than they were knocked down. I had a passing glimpse of the buxom girl wedged between the four legs of a capsized chair, kicking furiously and unable to extricate herself. It was just a brief nightmare of convulsed faces and brandishing fists, and then…