going into the smoking-car. Shall I send the porter to you for
anything?"

MISS GALBRAITH: "No, thanks." She puts up her handkerchief to her
face.

MR. RICHARDS: "Lucy, do you send me away?"

MISS GALBRAITH, behind her handkerchief: "You were going, yourself."

MR. RICHARDS, over his shoulder: "Shall I come back?"

MISS GALBRAITH: "I have no right to drive you from the car."

MR. RICHARDS, coming back, and sitting down in the chair nearest her:
"Lucy, dearest, tell me what's the matter."

MISS GALBRAITH: "O Allen! your not KNOWING makes it all the more
hopeless and killing. It shows me that we MUST part; that you would
go on, breaking my heart, and grinding me into the dust as long as we
lived." She sobs. "It shows me that you never understood me, and
you never will. I know you're good and kind and all that, but that
only makes your not understanding me so much the worse. I do it
quite as much for your sake as my own, Allen."

MR. RICHARDS: "I'd much rather you wouldn't put yourself out on my
account."

MISS GALBRAITH, without regarding him: "If you could mortify me
before a whole roomful of people, as you did last night, what could I