“In the station.”
“Station!” Visions of his being “run in” assailed Mrs. Mar. “What station?”
“The G. N. W.,” he said indistinctly.
“The Great North Western Railroad Station,” Harry translated, with a reassuring look at the man.
“You slept in the waiting-room?”
“Some of us slept.”
“Oh, dear, I hope you’ve got nice quarters at last?” said Hildegarde.
“Wa-al, we got three rooms. But,” gloomier than ever, “we got to pay for ’em.”
“What do you want of three?” demanded Mrs. Mar.