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 me," he said, with a total absence of truculence. Denton realised that no assault was intended. He stared, awaiting the next development.
It was evident the next sentence was premeditated. "Whad--I--was--going--to say--was this," said the swart man, and sought through a silence for further words.
"Whad--I--was--going--to say--was this," he repeated.
Finally he abandoned that gambit. "_You're_ aw right," he cried, laying a grimy hand on Denton's grimy sleeve. "_You're_ aw right. You're a ge'man. Sorry--very sorry. Wanted to tell you that."
Denton realised that there must exist motives beyond a mere impulse to abominable proceedings in the man. He meditated, and swallowed an unworthy pride.
"I did not mean to be offensive to you," he said, "in refusing that bit of bread."
"Meant it friendly," said the swart man, recalling the scene; "but--in front of that blarsted Whitey and his snigger--Well--I _'ad_ to scrap."
"Yes," said Denton with sudden fervour: "I was a fool."
"Ah!" said the swart man, with great satisfaction. "_That's_ aw right. Shake!"