The guard came down the train, shutting doors. Barnaby's friends dropped off, tumbling into the smoker behind. The whistle shrilled.
"Wouldn't you rather get in with them?" said Susan, in sudden shyness.
"What? that would never do," explained Barnaby, pulling up the window. "The poor dear fellows have left us religiously to ourselves."
He threw a Westminster on her knee and took off his hat.
"What was Kilgour staring at, do you know?" he asked. "He seemed rather disturbed; didn't want us to notice."
"I don't know," she said.
Barnaby laughed out loud.
"We got on famously," he declared. "We'd pass muster anywhere. But you are tired out, aren't you? Lean back in your corner and go to sleep."
The slip carriage was rocking from side to side, and her head ached from the strain and excitement of the day. The same shyness that had smitten her as his friends left them made her shut her eyes under his regard. She rested her head on the stiff padding, listening to the thrum of the engine, wandering in dreams that could not match the fantastic unlikeliness of what had befallen; and all the while feeling his gaze on her.
She was roused by the jar as the train stopped at Bedford. The carriage door was opened and closed; they were no longer by themselves.