“It is open by my request, madame,” declared Helga in a very angry tone. The woman grumbled to the man, and at her instigation he appealed to me.
This was Helga’s opportunity, and she and the woman began an altercation, which lasted for several miles, and was waged with such bitterness that had they been men they would have come to blows. Helga’s fluency was too much for her opponent; besides, we were masters of the situation; so that the window remained open, and we shivered in victory.
At the first place where we stopped the quarrel began again, and the woman appealed to the officials.
They were sorry, but could do nothing.
The conductor offered a solution, however. There was an empty coupé on the train; would Helga remove to it? Certainly she would not. In her beloved France people could have a window up or down as they pleased, and she was not going to yield her privileges for all the cantankerous old women in Russia put together.
This settled it, and with many a parting shot at France and Frenchwomen in general, and Helga in particular, the two got out and followed the conductor to the other carriage.
As soon as we were out of the station Helga, who had kept up her show of vociferous and gesticulating anger, laughed.
“Do put the window up, please. I’m nearly frozen to death. I hope I haven’t given you a cold.”
I closed the window and laughed.
“I thought you were in earnest at first,” I said.