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 story with a credibility which it had wholly lacked, and when he rejoined him the Senator’s manner was altered accordingly. The Duke having telegraphed for the carriage to meet them at Tarrant Road, they took a cab together to Lime Street station, and were fortunate enough to find a train on the point of starting. It was a corridor express, made up entirely of vestibule cars, and the fact caused the Duke an annoyance which partially revived the Senator’s suspicions.

“I don’t like this,” Beaumanoir said, glancing with what looked very like dismay up and down the well-filled car as they took their seats. “I should have preferred an ordinary first-class compartment that we could have had reserved.”

“Ah! I suppose a duke is bound to be a bit exclusive,” said the Senator, guardedly.

Beaumanoir, who a month before had regarded a ride in a Bowery street-car as an unattainable luxury, was betrayed into disclaiming any such snobbery.

“It isn’t that” he was beginning hotly, when he pulled up short and feebly subsided, without explaining why he should have desired a tête-à-tête journey.