The man moved aside.
"Good-evening!" he said.
"Good-evening!" Morel answered, not noticing.
"Paul Morel ?" said the man.
Then he knew it was Dawes.

The man stopped his way.
"I've got yer, have I ?" he said awkwardly.
"I shall miss my train," said Paul.
He could see nothing of Dawes's face.

The man's teeth seemed to chatter as he talked.
"You're going to get it from me now," said Dawes.
Morel attempted to move forward; the other man stepped in front of him.
"Are yer goin' to take that top-coat off," he said, "or are you goin' to lie down to it ?" Paul was afraid the man was mad.
"But," he said, "I don't know how to fight." "All right, then," answered Dawes, and before the younger man knew where he was, he was staggering backwards from a blow across the face.
The whole night went black.

He tore off his overcoat and coat, dodging a blow, and flung the garments over Dawes.

The latter swore savagely.
Morel, in his shirt-sleeves, was now alert and furious.