They were two single compartments with a communicating door between them. In the second of them a thin maid, whom Katherine had noticed at Victoria, was sitting very upright on the seat, clutching a big scarlet morocco case with the initials R. V. K. on it. Mrs. Kettering pulled the communicating door to and sank down on the seat. Katherine sat down beside her.

“I am in trouble and I don’t know what to do. There is a man whom I am fond of⁠—very fond of indeed. We cared for each other when we were young, and we were thrust apart most brutally and unjustly. Now we have come together again.”

“Yes?”

“I⁠—I am going to meet him now. Oh! I dare say you think it is all wrong, but you don’t know the circumstances. My husband is impossible. He has treated me disgracefully.”