‘Without him we should have starved . . . me and the children. Can’t you see that for yourself? And yet you believe the first word that’s spoken against him and me. You ought to go down on your knees to him and thank him for what he’s done. If it hadn’t been for him you’d have found us all in the workhouse. George, you must believe me!’ ‘Oh, shut your bloody mouth!’ he said, rising clumsily. ‘George, you must!’ she repeated. She put her hand on his shoulder, but he pushed her away. Both of them heard a step on the path. She made a last, desperate effort. ‘George, if you touch him . . . ‘ she cried. ‘If you . . .! Abner stood in the doorway. His face was solemn and heavily lined. The sight of Malpas did not seem to disturb him. ‘Hallo, George,’ he said, in a thick voice. ‘How goes it?’ ‘Don’t you talk to me!’ said George, threateningly. ‘You wait till I’ve told you what I think of you, you damned swine!’ Abner flushed. ‘Steady, George! Go steady! We’ve got to talk this over. You sit down.’ ‘There’s a sight too much talk about the both of you,’ George snarled. ‘When you’ve broke up a man’s home behind his back and then tell him to take a seat in it. I’m going to give you your lesson before you get kicked out!’ He made a threatening movement toward Abner, who watched him closely. Spider came dancing into the room. She leapt up at Abner with little yelps of joy at his return, licking his hand. At this sight the anger that smouldered in George’s brain leapt into flame. ‘Not only the wife and the kids,’ he cried. ‘You’ve got round the lot of them, even the bleeding dog!’ He snatched up the poker and hit out at Spider. Abner took the blow on his thigh. ‘Here, drop that!’ he cried. But George’s senses had left him. He flew at Abner, raining desperate blows at his head. ‘George! You’ll kill him!’ Mary screamed. Abner had picked up a chair and protected himself as best he could. For a second the two men stood staring at one another, panting for breath. Then another gust of anger swept over George and he made for Abner again. Mary tried to throw herself between them, but Abner flung her aside. The legs of the chair were splintered under George’s blows. He continued to lash out, and it was as much as Abner could do to defend himself. He saw that the man’s flushed brain meant murder, nothing less. Somehow he must put an end to this madness. George’s hobnails slithered on the stone flags. Abner took his chance, and timed his blow. George went down with a groan: his poker sang like a tuning fork on the floor. ‘Abner, Abner, what have you done?’ Mary cried. She ran to George and bent over him, pulling up his head. Abner, with black blood dripping from a bruised vein on his forehead, stood back. The corners of his mouth twitched with his violent breathing: he still held his chair uplifted. ‘It was him or me,’ he panted. ‘He’s dead! You’ve killed him!’ ‘Not he! That sort don’t die.’