cut yourselves up! Can't be allowed!"

The others also interpose, and the antagonists are separated, but
they continue to hurl murderous looks at each other across the
barrier of their comrades. Pepin mutters a residue of slander
in tones that quiver with malice--

"The hooligan, the ruffian, the blackguard! But wait a bit! I'll see
him later about this!"

On the other side, Tulacque confides in the poilu who is beside him:
"That crab-louse! Non, but you know what he is! You know--there's no
more to be said. Here, we've got to rub along with a lot of people
that we don't know from Adam. We know 'em and yet we don't know 'em;
but that man, if he thinks he can mess me about, he'll find himself
up the wrong street! You wait a bit. I'll smash him up one of these
days, you'll see!"

Meanwhile the general conversation is resumed, drowning the last
twin echoes of the quarrel.

"It's every day alike, alors!" says Paradis to me; "yesterday it was
Plaisance who wanted to let Fumex have it heavy on the jaw, about
God knows what--a matter of opium pills, I think. First it's one and
then it's another that talks of doing some one in. Are we getting to
be a lot of wild animals because we look like 'em?"

"Mustn't take them too seriously, these men," Lamuse declares;
"they're only kids."