"I beg your pardon," said the lone passenger, halting here, "but is this place taken?"
The man's face twisted as though in annoyance. He made an undecided gesture which might be interpreted either as an affirmative or the other thing. "I'm sorry if I am disturbing you," added Miss Smith, "but the car is crowded—every inch of it except this seems to be occupied."
"Oh, I guess it's all right," he said, though in his begrudged consent was a sort of indirect intimation that it was not altogether all right. He half rose and swung the suitcase up into the luggage rack overhead, then tucked in his knees so she might slip into the place opposite him next the aisle.
"Excuse me," he said a moment later, "but I could change seats with you if you don't mind."
Her eyebrows went up a trifle.
In her experiences it had not often happened that seemingly without reason a male fellow traveler had suggested that she give him a place commonly regarded as preferable to his own.
"I do mind, rather," she answered. "Riding backward makes me carsick sometimes. Still I will change with you if you insist on it. I'm the intruder, you know."
"No, no, never mind!" he hastened to say. "I guess it don't make any difference. And there's no intrusion, miss—honest now, there ain't."