"I trust Herr will remember me in the days to come."

"Eh?" somewhat startled, I thought.

"I observed that you will possibly remember me in the days to come.
Or, perhaps I resemble some one you know."

"Not in the least," was the haughty retort.

I shrugged and relit my pipe. The tobacco I had purchased in Paris,
and it was of the customary vileness. Perhaps I could smoke out Mein
Herr. But the task resulted in a boomerang. He drew out a huge china
pipe and began smoking tobacco which was even viler than mine, if that
could be possible. Soon I let down the window.

"Does the smoke disturb Herr?" he asked, puffing forth great clouds of
smoke. There was a shade of raillery in his tones.

"It would not," I answered, "if it came from tobacco."

He subsided.

Whenever there was a stop of any length I stepped out and walked the
platform. The officer invariably followed my example. I pondered over
this each time I re-entered the carriage. At last my irritation turned
into wrath.

"Are you aware that your actions are very annoying?"