“Indeed, and have you been staying with friends?”
“Yes,” said Evereld. “And I am on my way now to some other friends.” Murmuring an excuse she sprang up and went to the window to see whether the train was nearly ready.
“This is dreadful,” she reflected. “If we talk much longer she will drag the whole story out of me. I will buy some papers and try to make her read.”
“You are sure your luggage is all right?” exclaimed the good lady the moment she returned.
“Quite sure, thank you,” said Evereld, clasping her hand bag closer and trembling lest she should be asked some quite unanswerable question.
At length an official began vigorously to ring the great bell in the doorway and to shout the intelligence that passengers for Geneva and various other places must take their seats.
“Can I help you?” said Evereld, politely offering to take a basket from the large heap of possessions with which her neighbour was surrounded. She was startled to feel something jump inside it in an uncanny way.
“Thank you if you would. To tell the truth it is my little dog in there, but he is such a good traveller, I don’t think you will mind him.”
“Shall I say that I detest dogs and so escape to another carriage?” reflected Evereld smiling to herself. But on the whole in spite of the tiresome questions she rather liked this good English lady and found a certain comfort in her presence when once they were installed in the train. Her spirits rose as they travelled further and further from the Mactavishs, she even grew hungry, made short work of the provisions she had bought, parried her friend’s questions skilfully by counter questions about the pet dog and finally took refuge in “Pride and Prejudice” and in the delicious humour of Jane Austen’s characters forgot all her dangers and difficulties till the train steamed into Geneva station.
“I suppose your friends will meet you?” asked the talkative lady as she fastened the dog up in his basket.