More than the shipping of goods was discussed in the shipping-room, and there was more than that glass of wine in Peter's mind when he looked in on Henston in the booth. There was a sales-girl who had lost her job in Pentle's. It was Henston who had taken advantage of his position to start her on the wrong road.
"The young lady," said Peter to Henston, "don't want to drink your health."
"Too bad—she drank it before," said Henston.
Peter had hard work to keep the wine from spilling.
"If you don't believe me, ask her," said Henston.
"What's that?" Peter said that to gain time to get his balance.
"I said, Ask her."
"You—you squid, you!"
Peter whipped the glass of wine into Henston's face and with that reached across for him. The two men nearest to Peter in the booth stood up to stop him. Peter reached a hand to the collar of each, stepped back, and brought their faces crashing together.
"It's my fight and his—keep out, you!" said Peter, and swept them back and down into their seats.