He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. This employment seemed to afford him the highest satisfaction; for a diabolical grin—it cannot be called a smile—played upon his face all the time he was engaged in it. She screamed involuntarily—she had never in her life screamed before—and then she began to wriggle and fight like a frightened animal against the men who were holding her. " "Well, you'll have lots of time down there.
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