Somehow he no longer had any desire to find out what had happened, and he slumped back in his seat and began idly to rearrange what dishes were still left on the table.
Presently Mrs. Perry returned. She had left her vanity case and had come to retrieve it. There was a look of relief on her face.
She looked at Mr. Furniss and frowned. Then a quizzical smile illumined her countenance. "It's your turn to be disappointed, Mr. Furniss," she said, smiling. "There were none of the gruesome scenes that you pictured in your mind. The accident was not a serious one. We bumped into the rear end of a freight train, but our brakes were working splendidly, and apparently nobody was hurt, though a few people were foolish enough to faint. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but your predictions were not verified."
Tom Furniss said nothing.
Mrs. Perry was going away, but a feeling of pity for the man whose whole life was built on the expectation of coming misfortunes made her halt.
"Mr. Furniss, will you let a woman give you a piece of advice?"
"I don't need it," he said promptly. "I'm cured."
"And in future?" she asked, as she held out her hand.
He grasped it.