Page 526 - sons-and-lovers

ter?’
‘Just a bit, like!’
He winked at the other men.
‘Oh well,’ said Paul, ‘I’ll be going!’
The mutual friend laid a detaining hand on his shoul-
der.
‘Nay,’ he said, ‘you don’t get off as easy as that, my lad.
We’ve got to have a full account of this business.’
‘Then get it from Dawes!’ he said.
‘You shouldn’t funk your own deeds, man,’ remonstrat-
ed the friend.
Then Dawes made a remark which caused Paul to throw
half a glass of beer in his face.
‘Oh, Mr. Morel!’ cried the barmaid, and she rang the bell
for the ‘chucker-out”.
Dawes spat and rushed for the young man. At that min-
ute a brawny fellow with his shirt-sleeves rolled up and his
trousers tight over his haunches intervened.
‘Now, then!’ he said, pushing his chest in front of
Dawes.
‘Come out!’ cried Dawes.
Paul was leaning, white and quivering, against the brass
rail of the bar. He hated Dawes, wished something could ex-
terminate 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,