The noise of a train had no unrest for her.

Indeed, a sleeping compartment in a Continental express was the most permanent home which Mrs.Thesiger had possessed for a good many more years than she would have cared to acknowledge.

She spent her life in hotels with her daughter for an unconsidered companion.

From a winter in Vienna or in Rome she passed to a spring at Venice or at Constantinople, thence to a June in Paris, a July and August at the bathing places, a September at Aix, an autumn in Paris again.

But always she came back to the sleeping-car.