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The Daredevil by Maria Thompson Daviess
page 40 of 224 (17%)
Detroit in one half hour back to the arms of the stiff lady. But when
I arrived there I found she had had me removed from her as far as
possible to the other end of the car, where I found my bags deposited
beside one marked "G. Slade, Detroit."

"Took the liberty of transferring you here above the other gentleman,
sir. The lady is nervous," said the conductor of the car as he handed
me another ticket.

"Right, old top," said that Mr. G. Slade as he stood beside us, having
followed. "If you don't enjoy sleeping rock-a-bye-baby we can put our
togs up and you can bunk in with me. I'm not nervous." And with a
glance at the very stiff black silk back in the front of the car he
made a laugh that I could not prevent myself from sharing. It is then
that the delicacy of a woman is so easily corrupted?

"I beg your pardon, conductor, but upper nine is engaged for my son
who is to get on at Philadelphia. I must have him just opposite my
daughter and me. We are nervous." And as the large and pathetic lady
across the aisle from number nine spoke in a most timid voice, that
Mr. G. Slade gave one glance at the daughter of whom she spoke, who
also must have weighed a great many litre, or what you call in
America, pounds, and fled back to the smoking apartment.

It was a very funny sight to behold that small conductor stand with my
large bags and overcoat and look around at that car full of ladies for
a place in which to deposit me and them, which was not previously
occupied by some female of great nervousness.

"Madam, I will have to use the upper of this section," he finally
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