She rubbed her hand across her eyes, but could not wipe it out.
When she looked back again, the men were surrounded by their little groups of supporters--not more than half a dozen in each party.

All but the two combatants were talking in excited undertones--giving advice--saying what they would do--standing on tiptoe and talking over each other's shoulders--pushing those away who came between them and the expression of their own opinions.

And in the centre of each of these groups stood the two who were about to be at each other's throats.

Except for their bared shoulders, dazzling patches of light against the dark clothes of the men surrounding them--they looked the least aggressive in the crowd.

They said nothing.