“Heaven knows! They seem capable of any folly!”
And then again he felt her lips against his ear.
“We must destroy your ticket,” she breathed. “Can you find it in the dark?”
“I think so.” He fumbled in an inside pocket and drew it out. “Here it is.”
Her groping hand found his and took the ticket.
“Now talk to me,” she said.
Stewart talked at random, wondering how she intended to destroy the ticket. Once he fancied he heard the sound of soft tearing; and once, when she spoke in answer to a question, her voice seemed strange and muffled.
“It is done,” she whispered at last. “Place these in your pocket and continue talking.”
Her groping hand touched his and he found himself grasping two minute objects whose nature he could not guess, until, feeling them carefully, he found them to be the small wire staples which had held the coupons of the ticket together. He slipped them into his waistcoat pocket; and then, as he began to tell her about the women from Philadelphia and the journey from Cologne, he was conscious that she was no longer beside him. But at the end of a moment she was back again.
“That girl was perfectly right,” she said. “Women are very silly to try to travel about Europe without a man as escort. Consider how I should feel at this moment if I did not have you!”