sympathetic
hearers, and that it gave rise to astonishment and ironical laughter.
They looked at Denton with manifestly enhanced interest. A curious
perception of isolation dawned upon him. He tried to think of his press
and its unfamiliar peculiarities....

The machines kept everybody pretty busy during the first spell, and
then came a recess. It was only an interval for refreshment, too brief
for any one to go out to a Labour Company dining-room. Denton followed
his fellow-workers into a short gallery, in which were a number of bins
of refuse from the presses.

Each man produced a packet of food. Denton had no packet. The manager, a
careless young man who held his position by influence, had omitted to
warn Denton that it was necessary to apply for this provision. He stood
apart, feeling hungry. The others drew together in a group and talked in
undertones, glancing at him ever and again. He became uneasy. His
appearance of disregard cost him an increasing effort. He tried to think
of the levers of his new press.

Presently one, a man shorter but much broader and stouter than Denton,
came forward to him. Denton turned to him as unconcernedly as possible.
"Here!" said the delegate--as Denton judged him to be--extending a cube
of bread in a not too clean hand. He had a swart, broad-nosed face, and
his mouth hung down towards one corner.

Denton felt doubtful for the instant whether this was meant for civility
or insult. His impulse was to decline. "No, thanks," he said; and, at
the man's change of expression, "I'm not hungry."

There came a laugh from the group behind. "Told you so," said the man
who had offered Denton the loan of an oil can. "He's top side, he is.
You ain't good enough for 'im."

The swart face grew a shade darker.

"Here," said its owner, still extending the bread, and speaking in a
lower tone; "you got to eat this. See?"

Denton looked into the threatening face before him, and odd little
currents of energy seemed to be running through his limbs and body.

"I don't want it," he said, trying a pleasant smile that twitched and
failed.

The thickset man advanced his face, and the bread became a physical
threat in his hand. Denton's mind rushed together to the one problem of
his antagonist's eyes.

"Eat it," said the swart man.

There came a pause, and then they both moved quickly. The cube of bread
described a complicated path, a curve that would have ended in Denton's
face; and then his f