a general manager, two sub-managers, four secretaries, eight
under-secretaries, a staff of five hundred clerks and nine hundred
workmen, a whole regiment of travelers like your servant, working in
Europe, Asia, Africa, America, Australasia, in short, a turnover
exceeding annually one hundred million dollars! And all that, Mr.
Bombarnac, for making millions of--yes, I said millions--"

At this moment the train commenced to slow under the action of its
automatic brakes, and he stopped.

"Elisabethpol! Elisabethpol!" shout the guard and the porters on the
station.

Our conversation is interrupted. I lower the window on my side, and
open the door, being desirous of stretching my legs.

Ephrinell did not get out.

Here was I striding along the platform of a very poorly lighted
station. A dozen travelers had already left the train. Five or six
Georgians were crowding on the steps of the compartments. Ten minutes
at Elisabethpol; the time-table allowed us no more.

As soon as the bell begins to ring I return to our carriage, and when I
have shut the door I notice that my place is taken. Yes! Facing the
American, a lady has installed herself with that Anglo-Saxon coolness
which is as unlimited as the infinite. Is she young? Is she old? Is she
pretty? Is she plain? The obscurity does not allow me to judge. In any
case, my French gallantry prevents me from claiming my corner, and I
sit down beside this person who makes no attempt at apology.