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Rh This was a contingency that I had never contemplated.

"You give me light, sar?" said the foreign lady.

Here was a chance of escape.

"I have no lights, madam."

"Ah, dash!" she said. "But, no consequence Guard!"

The guard came up.

"You give me light?"

And he gave her a light, and then he disappeared.

I was nearly choking with the fumes of her detestable Havannah. At last I could stand it no longer.

"I beg your pardon, but I object to smoking."

"Ah," replied the lady, "you object to smoke—you travel in smoking carriage. Donkey—jackass donkey!"

She said these last three words with the air of one who had done a short addition sum, and was stating the total.

I had never travelled abroad, but I knew that foreigners are remarkable for their politeness.

"I entered this carriage to avoid the society of ladies."

"Me, too," said the foreign lady. "Dash! I hate lady. I like gentleman." Then she added as an after-thought, "You are haughty old customer, but I like you—you rummy old passenger!"

I was exceedingly annoyed at this. I plume myself upon my good taste in dress—that is to say, I study to dress myself in such a manner as to call for no remark of any kind, which I hold to be the perfection of good