She paused, before following him, to watch the progress of the other
passenger. "Poor old man!" she said. "How weak and ill he looks!
It was a shame to let him be turned away like that. I'm very sorry--"
At this moment it dawned on me that these words were not addressed to me,
but that she was unconsciously thinking aloud. I moved away a few
steps, and waited to follow her into the carriage, where I resumed the
conversation.
"Shakespeare must have traveled by rail, if only in a dream:
'perturbed Spirit' is such a happy phrase."
"'Perturbed' referring, no doubt," she rejoined, "to the sensational
booklets peculiar to the Rail. If Steam has done nothing else, it has
at least added a whole new Species to English Literature!"
"No doubt of it," I echoed. "The true origin of all our medical
books--and all our cookery-books--"
"No, no!" she broke in merrily. "I didn't mean our Literature!
We are quite abnormal. But the booklets--the little thrilling romances,
where the Murder comes at page fifteen, and the Wedding at page forty
--surely they are due to Steam?"
"And when we travel by Electricity if I may venture to develop your
theory we shall have leaflets instead of booklets, and the Murder and
the Wedding will come on the same page."
"A development worthy of Darwin!", the lady exclaimed enthusiastically.
"Only you reverse his theory. Instead of developing a mouse into an
elephant, you would develop an elephant into a mouse!" But here we
plunged into a tunnel, and I leaned back and closed my eyes for a
moment, trying to recall a few of the incidents of my recent dream.
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