human
Philip, I cried, following him up the steps and overtaking him and seizing his arm as the commissionaire opened the door for him.
gpt
Philip! What have you people done with Mary? Where is Mary?
human
How dare you, he said with a catch of the breath,
gpt
I want to see her, I expostulated.
human
I _must_ see her. What you are doing is not playing the game. I've _got_ to see her.
gpt
Let go of my arm, sir! cried he, and suddenly I felt a whirlwind of rage answering the rage in his eyes. The pent-up exasperation of three weeks rushed to its violent release. He struck me in the face with the hand that was gripped about his umbrella. He meant to strike me in the face and then escape into his club, but before he could get away from me after his blow I had flung out at him, and had hit him under the jawbone. My blow followed his before guard or counter was possible. I hit with all my being. It was an amazing flare up of animal passion; from the moment that I perceived he was striking at me to the moment when both of us came staggering across the door-mat into the dignified and spacious hall-way of Blake's, we were back at the ancestral ape, and we did exactly what the ancestral ape would have done. The arms of the commissionaire about my waist, the rush of the astonished porter from his little glass box, two incredibly startled and delighted pages, and an intervening member bawling out
human
Sir! Sir!
gpt
How dare you name my sister to me?
human
You idiot, Philip! I cried.
gpt
I don't _know_ your sister. I've not seen her--scarcely seen her for years. I ask you--I ask you for a match-box or something and you hit me.
human
If you dare to speak to her----!
gpt
You fool! I cried, going nearer to him and trying to make him understand. But he winced and recoiled defensively.
human
I'm sorry, I said to the commissionaire who was intervening.
gpt
Lord Maxton has made a mistake.
human
Is he a member? said someone in the background, and somebody else suggested calling a policeman. I perceived that only a prompt retreat would save the whole story of our quarrel from the newspapers. So far as I could see nobody knew me there except Philip. I had to take the risks of his behavior; manifestly I couldn't control it. I made no further attempt to explain anything to anybody. Everyone was a little too perplexed for prompt action, and so the advantage in that matter lay with me. I walked through the door, and with what I imagined to be an appearance of the utmost serenity down the steps. I noted an ascending member glance at me with an expression of exceptional interest, but it was only after I had traversed the length of Pall Mall that I realized that my lip and the corner of my nostril were both bleeding profusely. I called a cab when I discovered my handkerchief scarlet, and retreated to my flat and cold ablutions. Then I sat down to write a letter to Tarvrille, with a clamorous
gpt
Urgent, Please forward if away above the address, and tell him at least to suppress Philip. But within the club that blockhead, thinking of nothing but the appearances of our fight and his own credit, was varying his assertion that he had thrashed me, with denunciations of me as a