Laura began to take her coffee by spoonfuls. Just then there come into
the dining-car a tall blond gentleman and a young, charming lady, each
smarter than the other. The man bowed to Laura with much formality.

"Who is he?" asked Caesar.

"He is the second son of Lord Marchmont, and he has married a Yankee
millionairess."

"You knew him in Rome?"

"No, I knew him at Florence last year, and he paid me attention rather
boldly."

"He is looking at you a lot now."

"He is capable of thinking that I am off on an adventure with you."

"Possibly. She is a magnificent woman."

"Right you are. She is a marvel. She is almost too pretty. She shows no
character; she has no air of breeding." "There doesn't seem to be any
great congeniality between them."

"No, they don't get on very well. But come along, pay, let's go. So
many people are coming in here."

Laura got up, and after her, Caesar. As she passed, one heard the swish
of her silk petticoats. The travellers looked at her with admiration.