Calabressa was walking up and down on the platform. At length the bell
rung, and he was about to step into the compartment, when he found
himself preceded by a lady.
"I beg your pardon, madame," said he, politely, "but it is a carriage
for smokers."
"And if one wishes to smoke, one is permitted--is it not so?" said the
stranger, cheerfully.
Calabressa at once held open the door for her, and then followed. These
three had the compartment to themselves.
She was a young lady, good-looking, tall, bright-complexioned, with
brown eyes that had plenty of fire in them, and a pleasant smile that
showed brilliant teeth. Calabressa, sitting opposite her, judged that
she was an Austrian, from the number of bags and knickknacks she had,
all in red Russia leather, and from the number of trinkets she wore,
mostly of polished steel or silver. She opened a little tortoise-shell
cigarette-case, took out a cigarette, and gracefully accepted the light
that Calabressa offered her. By this time the train had started, and was
thundering through the night.
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