know what I've done. When you came at me, last night, with my ring
and presents and other little traps, you might have knocked me down
with the lightest of the lot. I was perfectly dazed; I couldn't say
anything before you were off, and all I could do was to hope that
you'd be more like yourself in the morning. And in the morning, when
I came round to Mrs. Philips's, I found you were gone, and I came
after you by the next train."

MISS GALBRAITH: "Mr. Richards, your personal history for the last
twenty-four hours is a matter of perfect indifference to me, as it
shall be for the next twenty-four hundred years. I see that you are
resolved to annoy me, and since you will not leave the car, I must do
so." She rises haughtily from her seat, but the imprisoned skirt of
her polonaise twitches her abruptly back into her chair. She bursts
into tears. "Oh, what SHALL I do?"

MR. RICHARDS, dryly: "You shall do whatever you like, Miss
Galbraith, when I've set you free; for I see your dress is caught in
the window. When it's once out, I'll shut the window, and you can
call the porter to raise it." He leans forward over her chair, and
while she shrinks back the length of her tether, he tugs at the
window-fastening. "I can't get at it. Would you be so good as to
stand up,--all you can?" Miss Galbraith stands up, droopingly, and
Mr. Richards makes a movement towards her, and then falls back. "No,
that won't do. Please sit down again." He goes round her chair and
tries to get at the window from that side. "I can't get any purchase
on it. Why don't you cut out that piece?" Miss Galbraith stares at
him in dumb amazement. "Well, I don't see what we're to do: I'll go
and get the porter." He goes to the end of the car, and returns. "I
can't find the porter,--he must be in one of the other cars. But"--