Albert's reply was to hit out with his left hand in the direction of the speaker's face. The stranger, without fuss, touched the back of Albert's wrist gently with the palm of his right hand, and Albert, turning round in a circle, ended the manoeuvre with his back towards his opponent. He faced round again irresolutely. The thing had surprised him. "You go away," said the other, as if he were making the observation for the first time. "It's Joe Bevan," said one of Albert's friends, excitedly. Albert's jaw fell. His freckled face paled. "You go away," repeated the man in the tweed suit, whose conversation seemed inclined to run in a groove. This time Albert took the advice. His friends had already taken it. "Thanks," said Sheen. "Beware," said Mr Bevan oracularly, "of entrance to a quarrel; but, being in, bear't that th' opposed may beware of thee. Always counter back when you guard. When a man shows you his right like that, always push out your hand straight. The straight left rules the boxing world. Feeling better, sir?" "Yes, thanks." "He got that right in just on the spot. I was watching. When you see a man coming to hit you with his right like that, don't you draw back. Get on top of him. He can't hit you then." That feeling of utter collapse, which is the immediate result of a blow in the parts about the waistcoat, was beginning to pass away, and Sheen now felt capable of taking an interest in sublunary matters once more. His ear smarted horribly, and when he put up a hand and felt it the pain was so great that he could barely refrain from uttering a cry. But, however physically battered he might be, he was feeling happier and more satisfied with himself than he had felt for years. He had been beaten, but he had fought his best, and not given in. Some portion of his self-respect came back to him as he reviewed the late encounter. Mr Bevan regarded him approvingly. "He was too heavy for you," he said. "He's a good twelve stone, I make it. I should put you at ten stone--say ten stone three. Call it nine stone twelve in condition. But you've got pluck, sir." Sheen opened his eyes at this surprising statement. "Some I've met would have laid down after getting that first hit, but you got up again. That's the secret of fighting. Always keep going on. Never give in. You know what Shakespeare says about the one who first cries, 'Hold, enough!' Do you read Shakespeare, sir?" "Yes," said Sheen. "Ah, now _he_ knew his business," said Mr Bevan enthusiastically. "_There_ was ring-craft, as you may say. _He_ wasn't a novice." Sheen agreed that Shakespeare had written some good things in his time.