"Rather, perhaps. It was unexpected. You have failed me when I wanted you most."
He took two first-class tickets—he wished to be alone with her, and he knew that she travelled "second."
"I'm coming with you," he said.
"But you can't have dined? Our suppers are not extensive."
"Let us get in!" he answered.
They had the compartment to themselves when the door banged, and he regarded her silently, with nerves that had escaped control.
"I have warned you," she said. "It will be something out of a tin for certain, with vinegar over it."
"Mamie!"
There was rebuke in her expression.
"Mamie," he repeated, "I love you. Why I dislike your going on the stage is because I want you myself. I was 'brutal' because I'm fond of you. Will you marry me?"