But I take it every sensible person is glad to get away
from London."

"Except for an odd Sunday, now and then, I haven't put
my nose outside London since I landed here." Thorpe rose
as he spoke, to deposit his hat also in the rack.
He noted with a kind of chagrin that his companion's was
an ordinary low black bowler. "I can tell you, I SHALL
be glad of the change. I would have bought the tickets,"
he went on, giving words at random to the thought which he
found fixed on the surface of his mind, "if I'd only known
what our station was."

Plowden waved his hand, and the gesture seemed to dismiss
the subject. He took a cigar case from his pocket,
and offered it to Thorpe.

"It was lucky, my not missing the train altogether,"
he said, as they lighted their cigars. "I was up late last
night--turned out late this morning, been late all day,
somehow--couldn't catch up with the clock for the life of me.
Your statement to me last night--you know it rather
upset me."

The other smiled. "Well, I guess I know something about
that feeling myself. Why, I've been buzzing about today
like a hen with her head cut off. But it's fun, though,
aint it, eh? Just to happen to remember every once
in a while, you know, that it's all true! But of course
it means a thousand times more to me than it does to you."