thought the girls' light dresses were gayer and smarter than those
usually seen among a crowd of English passengers; but there was another
side to the picture.

Rows of artistic seats ran here and there, and each was occupied by
jaded immigrants, worn out by their journey in the sweltering Colonist
cars. Piles of dilapidated baggage surrounded them, and among it
exhausted children lay asleep. Drowsy, dusty women, with careworn
faces, were huddled beside them; men bearing the stamp of ill-paid toil
sat in dejected apathy; and all about each group the floor, which was
wet with drippings from the roof, was strewn with banana skins, crumbs,
and scraps of food. There had been heavy rains, and the atmosphere was
hot and humid. It was, however, the silence of these newcomers that
struck George most. There was no grumbling among them--they scarcely
seemed vigorous enough for that--but as he passed one row he heard a
woman's low sobbing and the wail of a fretful child.

After a while the girl he had met on the train appeared and intimated
by a smile that he might join her. They found an unoccupied seat, and
a smartly-attired young man who was approaching it stopped when he saw
them.

"Well," he said coolly, "I guess I won't intrude."

George felt seriously annoyed with him, but he was reassured when his
companion laughed with candid amusement. Though there was no doubt of
her prettiness, he had already noticed that she did not impress one
most forcibly with the fact that she was an attractive young woman. It
seemed to sink into the background when one spoke to her.