I liked the feel of his blows; it was good to realize that they did not hurt me half so much as his abuse had done.

I did not know how to fight, but I grappled with him fiercely.

I reached for his hair, and he tried to bite my thumb, actually getting it in his mouth, but I jerked it aside and caught his cheek in my grip, my thumb inside the cheek-pouch, and my fingers outside.

I felt a hot thrill of joy as my nails sank into his cheek inside and out, and he cringed.

I held him at arm's length, helpless, and with his head drawn all askew; and still keeping my unfair hold, I rolled him over, and coming on top of him, thrust the other thumb in the other side of his mouth, frenziedly trying to rip his cheeks, and pounding his head on the deck.