Paul was leaning, white and quivering, against the brass rail of the bar. He hated Dawes, wished something could exterminate him at that minute; and at the same time, seeing the wet hair on the man's forehead, he thought he looked pathetic. He did not move.

`Come out, you --,' said Dawes.

`That's enough, Dawes,' cried the barmaid.

`Come on,' said the `chucker-out', with kindly insistence, `you'd better be getting on.'

And, by making Dawes edge away from his own close proximity, he worked him to the door.

`That's the little sod as started it!' cried Dawes, half cowed, pointing to Paul Morel.

`Why, what a story, Mr Dawes!' said the barmaid. `You know it was you all the time.'

Still the `chucker-out' kept thrusting his chest forward at him, still he kept edging back, until he was in the doorway and on the steps outside; then he turned round.

`All right,' he said, nodding straight at his rival.

Paul had a curious sensation of pity, almost of affection, mingled with violent hate, for the man. The coloured door swung to; there was silence in the bar.

`Serve him jolly well right!' said the barmaid.

`But it's a nasty thing to get a glass of beer in your eyes,' said the mutual friend.

`I tell you I was glad he did,' said the barmaid. `Will you have another, Mr Morel?'

She held up Paul's glass questioningly. He nodded.

`He's a man as doesn't care for anything, is Baxter Dawes,' said one.

`Pooh! is he?' said the barmaid. `He's a loud-mouthed one, he is, and they're never much good. Give me a pleasant-spoken chap, if you want a devil!'

`Well, Paul, my lad,' said the friend, `you'll have to take care of yourself now for a while.'

`You won't have to give him a chance over you, that's all,' said the barmaid.

`Can you box?' asked a friend.

`Not a bit,' he answered, still very white.

`I might give you a turn or two,' said the friend.

`Thanks, I haven't time.'

And presently he took his departure.

`Go along with him, Mr Jenkinson,' whispered the bar-maid, tipping Mr Jenkinson the wink.

The man nodded, took his hat, said `Good-night all!' very heartily, and followed Paul, calling:

`Half a minute, old man. You an' me's going the same road, I believe.'