“Get off me, or I’ll beat shit out of you!” said Ford. Those were bad words, spoken rudely to me at my place. So I took it as a real offence, but I wasn’t in fighting mood any longer, though feeling bad; I just clasped the shirt on his breast, and it snapped down, cracking. But the American wasn’t accustomed to Russian manners; unluckily he couldn’t then guess that I meant no real fight, though anybody’s touch in this country was disgusting to him. Suddenly I’ve felt a short and powerful blow to my stomach, my long-suffering stomach not yet recovered from the beating three days ago, and then straightway to my jaw with his other hand. That was a well-done deuce, my favorite years ago I also often performed. Six-feet and beefy James was a real Bond: I’ve capsized to the floor, then rolled
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He swallowed that and put up his jaw for my easy punch. Unfortunately for him, it turned out a bit closer to his temple, though quite a fair hit in a professional boxing. James Ford’s head jerked sharply aside, his eyes flashed and immediately died down, and six-feet James Ford, powerful and very good-looking, collapsed by the staircase and died down. Marilyn dashed now to James Ford, fell down by him, but then turned to me, crying, “You killed him, you killed my James!” I’ve got real scared at first – “Dear me! Killed?” But no, he was okay, just sleepy, and when he stirred Marilyn forgot all about me and poured on him all her affection and tenderness. I’ve got disgusted with it, went out of the doors and faced Lenin and yogi Purba on the porch. Lenin looked very tired, and he just nodded to me. But Purba’s eyes, when he saw me, suddenly widened in fright. “What happened to you?” he cried, and then held out his hand to my sore face and touched it gently. I screwed my face with pain. “I warned you at the mausoleum – bad luck for
He swallowed that and put up his jaw for my easy punch. Unfortunately for him, it turned out a bit closer to his temple, though quite a fair hit in a professional boxing. James Ford’s head jerked sharply aside, his eyes flashed and immediately died down, and six-feet James Ford, powerful and very good-looking, collapsed by the staircase and died down. Marilyn dashed now to James Ford, fell down by him, but then turned to me, crying, “You killed him, you killed my James!” I’ve got real scared at first – “Dear me! Killed?” But no, he was okay, just sleepy, and when he stirred Marilyn forgot all about me and poured on him all her affection and tenderness. I’ve got disgusted with it, went out of the doors and faced Lenin and yogi Purba on the porch. Lenin looked very tired, and he just nodded to me. But Purba’s eyes, when he saw me, suddenly widened in fright. “What happened to you?” he cried, and then held out his hand to my sore face and touched it gently. I screwed my face with pain. “I warned you at the mausoleum – bad luck for