At luncheon he saw her in the dining car. Her companions were
elderly persons--presumably her parents. They talked mostly in
French--occasionally using a German word or phrase. The old
gentleman was stately and austere--with an air of deference to
the young woman which Grenfall did not understand. His
appearance was very striking; his face pale and heavily lined;
moustache and imperial gray; the eyebrows large and bushy, and
the jaw and chin square and firm. The white-haired lady carried
her head high with unmistakable gentility. They were all dressed
in traveling suits which suggested something foreign, but not
Vienna nor Paris; smart, but far from American tastes.

Lorry watched the trio with great interest. Twice during
luncheon the young woman glanced toward him carelessly and left
an annoying impression that she had not seen him. As they left
the table and passed into the observation car, he stared at her
with some defiance. But she was smiling, and her dimples showed,
and Grenfall was ashamed. For some moments he sat gazing from
the car window--forgetting his luncheon-dreaming.

When he got back to his compartment he rang vigorously for the
porter. A coin was carelessly displayed in his fingers. "Do you
suppose you could find out who has the next compartment, porter?"

"I don't know their name, sub, but they's goin' to New York jis
as fas' as they can git thuh. I ain' ax um no questions, 'cause
thuh's somethin' 'bout um makes me feel's if I ain' got no right
to look at um even."