human
Batchelor, whispered Flanagan to me, as we walked two and two to church behind the Henniker that Sunday,
gpt
Nor can I. But how's he been getting on the last day or two?
human
Getting on! You never knew such scenes as we've had. He's afraid of nobody. He licked Philpot to fits on Thursday--smashed him, I tell you. You never saw such a demon as he is when his dander's up. Then he walked into Rathbone; and if Rathbone hadn't been a foot taller than him, with arms as long as windmills, he'd have smashed Rathbone.
gpt
Did he try it on you?
human
No--why should he? said the sturdy Flanagan;
gpt
A bad mark to Flanagan for talking, and to Batchelor for listening,