The Luxembourg was a sort of German restaurant under a theatre
where one could get some very good German dishes. There Vandover had
beer and sauerkraut, but Ellis took more whisky. The Dummy continued to
make peculiar sounds in his throat, half-noise, half-speech, and Geary
gravely informed the waiter that cherries were ripe.
All at once Ellis was drunk, collapsing in a moment. The skin around his
eyes was purple and swollen, the pupils themselves were contracted, and
their range of vision seemed to stop at about a yard in front of his
face. Suddenly he swept glasses, plates, castor, knives, forks, and all
from off the table with a single movement of his arm.
They all jumped up, sober in a minute, knowing that a scene was at hand.
The waiter rushed at Ellis, but Ellis knocked him down and tried to
stamp on his face. Vandover and the Dummy tried to hold his arms and
pull him off. He turned on the Dummy in a silent frenzy of rage and
brought his knuckles down upon his head again and again. For the moment
Ellis could neither hear, nor see, nor speak; he was blind, dumb,
fighting drunk, and his fighting was not the fighting of Vandover.
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