a cabman and run off delighted with his tip. When I returned I was
deafened by a babel of voices; there was a row going on: one of
the men, drunk but good-tempered, was trying to take the flower
out of Phoebe's hat. Provoked by this, a young man began jostling
him, at which all the others pressed forward; the barman shouted
ineffectually to them to stop; they merely cursed him and said
that they were backing Phoebe. A woman, more drunk than the
others, swore at being disturbed and said that Phoebe was a
blasted something that I could not understand. Suddenly I saw her
hitting out like a prize-fighter; and the men formed a ring round
them. I jumped up, seized an under-fed, blear-eyed being who was
nearest to me and flung him out of my way. Rage and disgust
inspired me with great physical strength; but I was prevented from
breaking through the ring by a man seizing my arm and saying:

"Let be or her man will give you a damned thrashing!"

Not knowing which of the women he was alluding to, I dipped down
and, dodging the crowd, broke through the ring and flung myself
upon Phoebe; my one fear was that she would be too late for her
work and that the promise I had made to Cliffords would be broken.

Women fight very awkwardly and I was battered about between the
two. I turned and cursed the men standing round for laughing and
doing nothing and, before I could separate the combatants, I had
given and received heavy blows; but unexpected help came from a
Cliffords packer who happened to look in. We extricated ourselves
as well as we could and ran back to the factory. I made Phoebe
apologise to the chief for being late and, feeling stiff all over,
returned home to Grosvenor Square.