Three—Compartment 'B'." He passed the Faydensons. "Excuse me," he said again as he opened the door.
"I'm so sorry," Lou said. "Right here in front of Mamma, I'll say it. Ill be called a forward hussy and what-not—"
"I must be in New York this week," Ken explained.
"New York won't matter," she plaintively shook her head. Tears were rising. She flew into the car, slamming the door.
"You are, you know," said Mamma, "a very bad man to upset my little girl this way. I'd be inclined to scold you, if I didn't like you myself."
"Thanks," said Ken.
"We'll be at the Ambassador next week. Please call. And—good-night."
"Good-night."
When he was alone, he sat down. Steel rails swiftly passed beneath him. The stubborn rotund moon was rising over the flat plane of the fields. Half an hour passed. He did not think. He rested, emotionless.
At last the door opened. Tommy Cook gently whispered: "Asleep?"
"No."
"May I?"
"Sit down," Ken said. "Be very quiet. Peaceful. You will be, won't you?"
"When I'm with you, I don't have to speak. You know."
"Yes—" Ken repeated. "I know."
