Vesper knew Stone and Warrior's huge dry-goods establishment, and had due respect for the opinion of one of their travellers.
"And when we start we don't go," said the dry-goods man. "This train doesn't dare show its nose in Halifax before six o'clock, so she's just got to put in the time somewhere. Later in the season they'll clap on the Flying Bluenose, which makes them think they're flying through the air, because she spurts and gets in two hours earlier. How far are you going?"
"I don't know; possibly to Grand Pré."
"A pretty country there, but no big farms,—kitchen-gardening compared with ours."
"That is where the French used to be."
"Yes, but there ain't one there now. The most of the French in the province are down here."
Vesper let his surprised eyes wander out through the car window.
"Pretty soon we'll begin to run through the woods. There'll be a shanty or two, a few decent houses and a station here and there, and you'd think we were miles from nowhere, but at the same time we're running abreast of a village thirty-five miles long."
"That is a good length."