For the train had slowed while they were talking, and was now gliding gently along by the platform of the great dimly lighted station.
A porter sprang on to the footboard as he let down the window.
“Luggage, sir?”
“No. Is the refreshment room open?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That will do, then,” said Garstang, and he slipped a coin into the man’s hand. “Now, then, my dear, we’ll go and have a hot cup of tea at once.”
“I really could not touch any now, Mr Garstang,” said Kate.
“That’s what I daresay you said about your medicine when you were a little girl; but I must be doctor, and tell you that it is necessary to take away that nervous shivering and agitation; and besides, have a little pity on me.”
She smiled faintly as he handed her out of the carriage, and suffered herself to be led to where the cheerless refreshment room was in charge of a couple of girls, who looked particularly sleepy and irritable, but who had been comforting themselves with that very rare railway beverage, a cup of freshly made tea.
“There, I am sure you feel better for that,” said Garstang, as he drew his companion’s arm through his and led her out of the station, ignoring the offers of cabman after cabman. “A nice, little, quick walk will circulate your blood, and then we’ll take a cab and go home.”