"He does mean that!"
Alth. (to herself). He does mean that! But I won't be proposed to like this on a railway platform; I don't believe it's proper; and I haven't even made up my mind! (Aloud.) If it was difficult before, it will be harder than ever now—just when another train is coming in, Mr. Curphew.
Curph. (angrily, as the train passes). Another—already! The way they crowd the traffic on this line is simply dis——But it's an express. It isn't going to stop, I assure you it isn't!
Alth. It has stopped. And we had better get in.
Phœbe. I don't know if you fancy the look of this train, Miss, but there's an empty first-class in front.
Curph. This train stops everywhere. We shall get in just as soon by the next—sooner in fact.
Alth. If you think so, Mr. Curphew, wait for it, but we really must go. Come, Phœbe.
Phœbe. I only took a second for myself, Miss, not knowing you'd require——
Curph. (to himself). There's a chance still, if I can get a carriage to ourselves. (Aloud.) No, Miss Toovey, you must let me come with you. Your mother put you under my care, you know. (To Phœbe.) Here, give me Miss Toovey's bag. Now, Miss Toovey, this way—we must look sharp. (He opens the door of an empty compartment, puts Althea in, hands her the bag, and is about to follow when he is seized by the arm, and turns to find himself in the grasp of Mr. Toovey.) How do you do, Mr. Toovey? We—we are just off, you see.