'Oh, I beg your pardon,' she said; 'I
thought you were Morton Hamilton, the English champion.' As a matter
of fact, I do look like Hamilton, but I know now that her object was
to make me think that she had no idea as to who I really was. She
needn't have acted at all, for I certainly had no suspicions of her,
and was only too pleased to have so charming a companion.
"The one thing that should have made me suspicious was the fact that
at every station she made some trivial excuse to get me out of the
compartment. She pretended that her maid was travelling back of us in
one of the second-class carriages, and kept saying she could not
imagine why the woman did not come to look after her, and if the maid
did not turn up at the next stop, would I be so very kind as to get
out and bring her whatever it was she pretended she wanted.
"I had taken my dressing-case from the rack to get out a novel, and
had left it on the seat opposite to mine, and at the end of the
compartment farthest from her. And once when I came back from buying
her a cup of chocolate, or from some other fool-errand, I found her
standing at my end of the compartment with both hands on the
dressing-bag.
Pages:
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297