Their talk is of nothing but figures.

I don't know if the practical American murmurs at the ear of the practical Englishwoman the adorable verse which made the heart of Lydia palpitate: "Nee tecum possum vivere sine te," but I do know that Ephrinell can very well live without me.

I have been quite right in not reckoning on his company to charm away the tedium of the journey.

The Yankee has completely "left" me--that is the word--for this angular daughter of Albion.
I reach the platform.

I cross the gangway and I am at the door of the second car.
In the right-hand corner is Baron Weissschnitzerdoerfer.