The young man stood, smiling with his lips.
"Ussha!" hissed the father, swiping round with a great stroke just past his son's face.

He dared not, even though so close, really touch the young man, but swerved an inch away.
"Right!" said Paul, his eyes upon the side of his father's mouth, where in another instant his fist would have hit.

He ached for that stroke.
But he heard a faint moan from behind.

His mother was deadly pale and dark at the mouth.

Morel was dancing up to deliver another blow.
"Father!" said Paul, so that the word rang.
Morel started, and stood at attention.
"Mother!" moaned the boy.