Quint ran at him with a half-suppressed howl, his momentum carrying him
halfway up Professor Boomly's person. Then, losing foothold, he fell to
the floor and began to kick in the general direction of Professor Boomly.
It was a sorrowful sight to see these two celebrated scientists panting,
mauling, scuffling and punching each other around the room, tables and
chairs and scrapbaskets flying in every direction, and I mounted on the
window-sill horrified, speechless, trying to keep clear of the revolving
storm centre.
"Where are my Silver Moon eggs!" screamed Dr. Quint. "Where are my eggs
that Jones brought me from Singapore--you entomological robber! You've
got 'em somewhere! If you don't give 'em up I'll find means to destroy
you!"
"You insignificant pair of maxillary palpi!" bellowed Professor Boomly,
galloping after Dr. Quint as he dodged around my desk. "I'll pull off
those antennae you call whiskers if I can get hold of em--"
Dr. Quint's threatened mustaches bristled as he fled before the
elephantine charge of Professor Boomly--once again around my desk, then
out into the hall, where I heard the door of his office slam, and Boomly,
gasping, panting, breathing vengeance outside, and vowing to leave Quint
quite whiskerless when he caught him.
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