When the boy turned, there was deathly illness on his face, while his legs wavered beneath his weight.

He staggered to the case, and opening it he took out a piece of cloth.

He dipped it into the water, and sitting on a bench, he wiped the blood and grime from his face, while his breath sucked between his clenched teeth.

He was shivering with pain and excitement in spite of himself.

He unbuttoned the band of his right sleeve, and turning it back, exposed the blue-lined, calloused whiteness of his maimed arm, now vividly streaked with contusions, while in a series of circular dots the blood oozed slowly.