“Here, give me the chain, I'll tie the dog up.”
“But the muzzle, sir.”
A muzzle was procured, and Frank ran to the third class carriage where he had seen Lizzie enter.
“Lizzie! Lizzie!”
“Oh, Mr. Escott, who would have thought of seeing you! It is such a time—”
“Yes, isn't it; how long? But are you going to Brighton?”
“Yes.”
“So am I; but—let me get you a first-class ticket. Guard, have I time to change my ticket?”
“No, sir, the train is going to start; get in.”
“Do you get out, Lizzie; I'll pay the difference at Brighton.”