His big ears stood out, transparent and veined, resembling the
thin wings of a bat.
"Yuss?" he said, with his back towards Jimmy.
"Yes! Chatter out all you know--like... like a dirty white cockatoo."
Donkin waited. He could hear the other's breathing, long and slow; the
breathing of a man with a hundredweight or so on the breastbone. Then he
asked calmly:--"What do I know?"
"What?... What I tell you... not much. What do you want... to talk about
my health so..."
"It's a blooming imposyshun. A bloomin', stinkin', first-class
imposyshun--but it don't tyke me in. Not it."
Jimmy kept still. Donkin put his hands in his pockets, and in one
slouching stride came up to the bunk.
"I talk--what's the odds. They ain't men 'ere--sheep they are. A driven
lot of sheep. I 'old you up... Vy not? You're well orf."
"I am... I don't say anything about that...."
"Well. Let 'em see it. Let 'em larn what a man can do. I am a man, I
know all about yer...." Jimmy threw himself further away on the pillow;
the other stretched out his skinny neck, jerked his bird face down at
him as though pecking at the eyes. "I am a man. I've seen the inside of
every chokey in the Colonies rather'n give up my rights.
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