He was conscious of a great, dull
pain that weighed on his mind, smothering it. The trees and houses
still moved past him in the same indistinguishable blur.
He became aware that the conductor was standing beside him, saying
something about a ticket. He produced his once more, but this did
not seem to satisfy the conductor. To get rid of the man, who was
becoming a nuisance, he gave him his whole attention, as far as
that smothering weight would allow him to give his whole attention
to anything, and found that the man was saying strange things. He
thought that he could not have heard him correctly.
'What?' he said.
'Lady back there told me to collect her fare from you,' repeated
the conductor. 'Said you would pay.'
Bill blinked. Either there was some mistake or trouble had turned
his brain. He pushed himself together with a supreme effort.
'A lady said I would pay her fare?'
'Yes.'
'But--but why?' demanded Bill, feebly.
The conductor seemed unwilling to go into first causes.
'Search me!' he replied.
'Pay her fare!'
'Told me to collect it off the gentleman in the grey suit in the
smoking-car. You're the only one that's got a grey suit.'
'There's some mistake.'
'Not mine.'
'What does she look like?'
The conductor delved in his mind for adjectives.
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