A Counterfeit Presentment; and, The Parlour Car

by William Dean Howells

Mr. R.—"May I ask why?"

Miss G., more faintly still.—"I don't like to tell. I"—

Mr. R., coming and standing in front of her, with his hands in his pockets.—"Look me in the eye, Lucy!" She drops her veil over her face, and looks up at him. "Did you—did you expect to find me on this train?"

Miss G.—"I was afraid it never would get along,—it was so late!"

Mr. R.—"Don't—tergiversate."

Miss G.—"Don't what?"

Mr. R.—"Fib."

Miss G.—"Not for worlds!"

Mr. R.—"How did you know I was in this car?"