He was exceedingly nervous, but did his best to put on a calm exterior. Carrie only looked at him with large, troubled eyes. She was drifting mentally, unable to say to herself what to do.
The train stopped and Hurstwood led the way out. He looked warily around him, pretending to look after Carrie. Seeing nothing that indicated studied observation, he made his way to the ticket office.
"The next train for Montreal leaves when?" he asked.
"In twenty minutes," said the man.
He bought two tickets and Pullman berths. Then he hastened back to Carrie.
"We go right out again," he said, scarcely noticing that Carrie looked tired and weary.
"I wish I was out of all this," she exclaimed gloomily.
"You'll feel better when we reach Montreal," he said.
"I haven't an earthly thing with me," said Carrie; "not even a handkerchief."
"You can buy all you want as soon as you get there, dearest," he explained. "You can call in a dressmaker."