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 in the Bombay hotel when he caught me fast asleep. But it was downright fear that made these old ladies' eyes bulgy. I sat on still and laughed. I must have caught this poor inoffensive, old lady by the leg as she was climbing laboriously into the upper berth. And now they all three sat looking at me with fear showing every moment stronger in their eyes. I am afraid they must have begun to think me mad, but the whole thing was so comic and unexpected that only pity for their helplessness and obvious fright at last conquered my amusement. I stopped laughing, duly apologised, and proceeded to help the mass of grey dressing-gown off the floor into the upper berth. It's a nasty climb for an unathletic old lady into the upper berth of an Indian railway carriage, but it's quite funny from the spectator's point of view, and the sight of a skinny leg dangling down just in the place where I had caught hold of it a few minutes before nearly upset my gravity again. But with great self control I outwardly preserved a sympathetic air, and by gently pushing and shoving the grey dressing gown in various places finally landed it safely in the upper berth. All three old ladies were profuse in their acknowledgments as I once more lowered the green baize over the lights, and bidding them good-night, again composed myself to sleep. My first thought when I awoke was of Aunt Agatha's woollen things peacefully reposing at the bottom of my biggest trunk labelled 'Not wanted on voyage.' To my intense surprise and disgust