Tickets, Please! | Page 5

to the wall,
and say which one touches you. Go on-we shall only just touch your
back-one of us. Go on-turn your face to the wall, and don't look, and
say which one touches you.'
They pushed him to a wall and stood him there with his face to it.
Behind his back they all grimaced, tittering. He looked so comical.
'Go on!' he cried.
'You're looking-you're looking!' they shouted.
He turned his head away. And suddenly, with a movement like a swift
cat, Annie went forward and fetched him a box on the side of the head
that sent his cap flying. He started round.
But at Annie's signal they all flew at him, slapping him, pinching him,
pulling his hair, though more in fun than in spite or anger. He, however,
saw red. His blue eyes flamed with strange fear as well as fury, and he
butted through the girls to the door. It was locked. He wrenched at it.
Roused, alert, the girls stood round and looked at him. He faced them,
at bay. At that moment they were rather horrifying to him, as they
stood in their short uniforms. He became suddenly pale.
'Come on, John Joseph! Come on! Choose!' said Annie.
'What are you after? Open the door,' he said.
'We sha'n't-not till you've chosen,' said Muriel.
'Chosen what?' he said.
'Chosen the one you're to marry,' she replied. The girls stood back in a
silent, attentive group.

He hesitated a moment:
'Open the confounded door,' he said, 'and get back to your senses.' He
spoke with official authority.
'You've got to choose,' cried the girls.
He hung a moment; then he went suddenly red, and his eyes flashed.
'Come on! Come on!' cried Annie.
He went forward, threatening. She had taken off her belt and, swinging
it, she fetched him a sharp blow over the head with the buckle end. He
rushed with lifted hand. But immediately the other girls flew at him,
pulling him and pushing and beating him. Their blood was now up. He
was their sport now. They were going to have their own back, out of
him. Strange, wild creatures, they hung on him and rushed at him to
bear him down. His tunic was torn right up the back. Nora had hold at
the back of his collar, and was actually strangling him. Luckily the
button-hole burst. He struggled in a wild frenzy of fury and terror,
almost mad terror. His tunic was torn off his back as they dragged him,
his shirt-sleeves were torn away, one arm was naked. The girls simply
rushed at him, clenched their hands and pulled at him; or they rushed at
him and pushed him, butted him with all their might.
At last he was down. They rushed him, kneeling on him. He had neither
breath nor strength to move. His face was bleeding with a long scratch.
Annie knelt on him, the other girls knelt and hung on to him. Their
faces were flushed, their hair wild, their eyes were all glittering
strangely. He lay at last quite still, with face averted, as an animal lies
when it is defeated and at the mercy of the captor.
Sometimes his eye glanced back at the wild faces of the girls. His
breast rose heavily, his wrists were scratched and bleeding.
'Now then, my fellow!' gasped Annie at length.

'Now then-now--'
At the sound of her terrifying, cold triumph, he suddenly started to
struggle as an animal might, but the girls threw themselves upon him
with unnatural strength and power, forcing him down.
'Yes-now then!' gasped Annie at length. And there was a dead silence,
in which the thud of heartbeating was to be heard. It was a suspense of
pure silence in every soul.
'Now you know where you are,' said Annie.
The sight of his white, bare arm maddened the girls. He lay in a kind of
trance of fear and antagonism. They felt themselves filled with
supernatural strength.
Suddenly Polly started to laugh-to giggle wildly-helplessly- and Emma
and Muriel joined in. But Annie and Nora and Laura remained the same,
tense, watchful, with gleaming eyes. He winced away from these eyes.
'Yes,' said Annie, recovering her senses a little.
'Yes, you may well lie there! You know what you've done, don't you?
You know what you've done.'
He made no sound nor sign, but lay with bright, averted eyes and
averted, bleeding face.
'You ought to be killed, that's what you ought,' said Annie, tensely.
Polly was ceasing to laugh, and giving long-drawn oh-h-h's and sighs
as she came to herself.
'He's got to choose,' she said, vaguely.
'Yes, he has,' said Laura, with vindictive decision.
'Do you hear-do you hear?' said Annie. And with a sharp movement,
that made him wince, he