How quiet it was here. A cursed sparrow was cheeping foolishly so near. The station seemed asleep. But he was going away. Behind in the waiting-room a voice droned on, while another laughed at intervals. There was Mamma’s voice coming. She had got hold of Smith, poor man. He was being allowed to speak, “No trouble at all, Mrs. Haye, at all. I will see to it immediately.” She stopped by him.
“They are making out the excess luggage, my dear. I think it is all going to be all right.”
This seat was hideously hard. That sparrow. Why was no one moving? A burst of laughter from the waiting-room, there were quite a number of people in it. They would be travelling by the same train.
“Janet.”
“Yes, Mr. John.”
“How much longer, Janet?”
“Only five minutes now.”
Why did she speak as if he was a child? Here were steps coming towards him, boots clanking on the flags. The man had a smell of grease and leather about him.
“Porter?”