Lifting an arm he snapped the string.
"Like every other souvenir and symbol of to-night, they are simply sickening."
Raising the window he threw the flowers into a river across which the locomotive was cautiously feeling its way. He opened his own satchel, leaning against hers on the opposite seat, took out a silver flask, and poured some ruby, aromatic liquid into the cup.
"You are sadly spent; take this."
"No, I do not need anything more."
"You must. It is merely a mild cocktail."
"No, Mr. Herriott, I prefer not."
"A few hours ago did you swear to obey me? Drink it."
She hid her face in her hands and shivered.
"Eglah, try to control yourself."