"I was in the day-coach," I answered, after I had shaken hands with Mr. Maxwell, when Richard remembered to present him.
"What?"
His tone was low and quiet, but his eyes spoke surprise, and I remembered, with a sudden chill, that according to his ethics I had done almost a disgraceful thing.
"There were some people in the day-coach I—wanted to be with," I began by way of explanation, but I saw that this was making matters worse.
"What kind of people?" he asked drily.
"A woman. I got to talking to her when we changed trains at M—; she had such a headache—and two babies. The littlest one consented to let me walk him around some; and I fed the other one the remains of a box of chocolates. When this train came they got into the day-coach, and of course I went with them."
"Why 'of course?'" he asked again, but with an amused smile dawning in his eyes.
"Well, I was still carrying the baby! I couldn't go off into another car with him, could I?"
Richard looked at Mr. Maxwell and laughed perfunctorily, but I knew that in some way he felt that I had humiliated him. Mr. Maxwell did not laugh, although his is essentially a laughing face.
"I understand," Richard said finally, turning to me again and asking for my checks. "You have quite the appearance of a good Samaritan. Your hair is—er—just a trifle ruffled. Couldn't you have managed some way to smooth it a little before you reached here? Evelyn always spends the last hour of a journey back in the dressing-room arranging her hair and powdering her face."