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He heard the ferret-faced man in expostulation. "'E reely ought, eat
it," said the ferret-faced man. "'E did reely."
"No--you leave 'im alone," said the swart man.
Apparently nothing further was to happen to him that day. He passed out
to the passage and staircase that led up to the moving platforms of the
city.
He emerged on the livid brilliance and streaming movement of the public
street. He became acutely aware of his disfigured face, and felt his
swelling bruises with a limp, investigatory hand. He went up to the
swiftest platform, and seated himself on a Labour Company bench.
He lapsed into a pensive torpor. The immediate dangers and stresses of
his position he saw with a sort of static clearness. What would they do
to-morrow? He could not tell. What would Elizabeth think of his
brutalisation? He could not tell. He was exhausted. He was aroused
presently by a hand upon his arm.
He looked up, and saw the swart man seated beside him. He started.
Surely he was safe from violence in the public way!
The swart man's face retained no traces of his share in the fight; his
expression was free from hostility--seemed almost deferential. "'Scuse
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