An idea flashed across Katherine's mind. Could this be the man of whom the other woman had spoken—the man she was journeying to meet.
Then Katherine told herself that she was romancing. In all probability she had mistaken the compartment.
She went back to her own carriage. Five minutes later the train slackened speed. There was the long plaintive hiss of the Westinghouse brake, and a few minutes later the train came to a stop at Lyons.
11. Murder
Katherine wakened the next morning to brilliant sunshine. She went along to breakfast early, but met none of her acquaintances of the day before. When she returned to her compartment it had just been restored to its day-time appearance by the conductor, a dark man with a drooping moustache and melancholy face.
"Madame is fortunate," he said; "the sun shines. It is always a great disappointment to passengers when they arrive on a grey morning."
"I should have been disappointed, certainly," said Katherine.
The man prepared to depart.
"We are rather late, Madame," he said. "I will let you know just before we get to Nice."