Probably without, because she
had freely used its staff as a weapon of defence, and her former
skill in fencing stood her in good stead. But at last she was
gripped by two constables, one of them an oldish man and the other a
plain-clothes policeman, whom several spectators had singled out for
his pleasure in needless brutalities.
These men proceeded to give her "punishment," and involuntarily she
shrieked with mingled agony of pain and outraged sex-revolt. A man
who had paused irresolutely on the kerb of a street refuge came to
her aid. He dealt the grey-haired constable a blow that sent him
reeling and then seized the plain-clothes man by his coat collar. A
struggle ensued which ended in the intervener being flung with such
violence on the kerb stone that he was temporarily stunned.
Presently he found himself being dragged along with his heels
dangling, while Vivie, described in language which my jury of
matrons will not allow me to repeat, was being propelled alongside
him, her clothes nearly torn off her, to some police station where
they were placed under arrest. As soon as they had recovered breath
and complete consciousness, had wiped the blood from cut heads,
noses, and lips, they looked hard at each other. "Thank you _so_
much," said Vivie, "it _was_ good of you." "That's enough," said
her defender, "it wanted the voice to make me sure; but somehow I
thought all along it _was_ Vivie.
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