"You don't say," said I politely but not encouragingly.
"Two hours," he repeated impressively.
"Indeed? Two whole hours and not a moment less?" and I returned to my paper pending the soup's arrival.
"Is it not wonderful," he resumed when I was at his mercy again, "to be travelling at sixty miles an hour and eating soup at the same time?"
"Some people eat soup," said I, "and some drink it. For myself, I give it a miss;" and I returned to the news.
With the fish: "I came up by the breakfast train this morning," said he, "and I now return by the dining train." He meant by this to give credit to the Company rather than to himself, but even so it seemed to fall short of the complete ideal. There was something wanting. It was luncheon, of course.
"They run luncheon cars too," said he.
"Then there seems to be no reason why you should ever leave the train at all," I remarked, seeking refuge again in my paper. In spite, however, of my coldness, he continued to assail me with similar facts every time I emerged. Finally he took a sheet of slightly soiled paper and pencilled on it a schedule of our movements. It ran:—
| Mileage. | Place. | Time. | ||
| — | Euston | 6.55 | P.M. | |
| 5½ | Willesden | [7.4] | " | |
| 17½ | Watford | [7.18] | " | |
| 46¾ | Bletchley | [7.50] | " | |
| 82¼ | Rugby | [8.24] | " | |
| 94¼ | Coventry | [8.36] | " | |
| 113 | Birmingham | 8.55 | " |
"To give this the very careful consideration it deserves," said I, "I must be left absolutely to myself."