I heard her door bang, but I kept
mine still open.
I smoked many cigarettes pondering over the curious episode and my new
acquaintance. How was I to class her? A young man would have sworn she
was perfectly straight, that there could be no guile in this
sweet-faced, gentle, well-mannered woman; and I, with my greater
experience of life and the sex, was much tempted to do the same. It
was against the grain to condemn her as all bad, a depredator, a woman
with perverted moral sense who broke the law and did evil things.
But what else could I conclude from the words I had heard drop from
her own lips, strengthened and confirmed as they were by the
incriminating language of her companion?
"Bother the woman and her dark blue eyes. I wish I'd never come across
her. A fine thing, truly, to fall in love with a thief. I hope to
heaven she will really leave the train at Boulogne; we ought to be
getting near there by now."
I had travelled the road often enough to know it by heart, and I
recognized our near approach only to realize that the train did not
mean to stop.
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