Then there came a wild shriek of laughter from Toby, and she doubled up in her corner with hysterical mirth, gasping and gasping for breath, till he sat squarely down beside her and pulled her into the circle of his arm.
"Easy, my girl! Easy!" he said. "We're not going to have an exhibition at this stage. You keep a stiff upper lip till you feel better!"
But the stiff upper lip was rather painfully lacking on that occasion. She very soon ceased to laugh, but for a long time thereafter she lay sobbing and shuddering like a little terrified animal against his breast while the train rushed on through the night.
He was very gentle with her. Jake's stock of patience was practically limitless, and he and Toby had always had a certain comradeship between them. But when she grew calmer at last he began to talk in the quiet, direct fashion habitual to him.
"Say now! You've had a bit of a facer over this. But you needn't be frightened. You're safe enough from that damned Italian anyway. And you'll find me a better refuge than he is—if that's what you're wanting."
She shivered and pressed closer. "You—don't know—what you're in for," she whispered piteously.
"That so?" said Jake, unmoved. "Well, maybe you'd like to enlighten me."
But Toby shook her head with a sob. "I couldn't! I just couldn't, Jake.
Do you mind?"
Jake considered the point with slightly drawn brows. "I guess there's no hurry," he decided at length. "We'll get home first anyway. That's the main point. You won't be sorry to get back to Maud, I take it?"
She answered him with a swift and passionate fervour that spoke more clearly than any words of the anguish of her soul. "Oh, Jake, I wish I'd died—I wish I'd died—before I left her!"