The stout young man drew back a pace.

"You can't do that sort of thing, you know."

"I know I can't," said George, "but I shall. In this life, my dear
sir, we must be prepared for every emergency. We must distinguish
between the unusual and the impossible. It would be unusual for a
comparative stranger to lean out of a cab window and sock you one,
but you appear to have laid your plans on the assumption that it
would be impossible. Let this be a lesson to you!"

"I tell you what it is--"

"The advice I give to every young man starting life is 'Never
confuse the unusual with the impossible!' Take the present case,
for instance. If you had only realized the possibility of somebody
some day busting you on the jaw when you tried to get into a cab,
you might have thought out dozens of crafty schemes for dealing
with the matter. As it is, you are unprepared. The thing comes on
you as a surprise. The whisper flies around the clubs: 'Poor old
What's-his-name has been taken unawares. He cannot cope with the
situation!'"

The man with the collar-studs made another diagnosis. He was seeing
clearer and clearer into the thing every minute.

"Looney!" he decided. "This 'ere one's bin moppin' of it up, and
the one in the keb's orf 'is bloomin' onion. That's why 'e 's
standin' up instead of settin'. 'E won't set down 'cept you bring