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Updated: May 20, 2025
The four-fifteen express slid softly out of Paddington Station and Ashe Marson settled himself in the corner seat of his second-class compartment. Opposite him Joan Valentine had begun to read a magazine. Along the corridor, in a first-class smoking compartment, Mr. Peters was lighting a big black cigar.
So this casual talk with the handsome young artist in the second-class carriage, on the Great Southern line, was to Elma as a charming and delightful glimpse of an enchanted region she could never enter. It was Paradise to the Peri. She turned the conversation at once, therefore, with resolute intent upon art and artists, determined to make the most while it lasted of this unique opportunity.
She achieved a good reputation for painting, copper engraving, and modelling in wax, as well as for her writings. <b>RAAB, DORIS.</b> Third-class medal, Nuremberg; also second-class medal, 1892. Born in Nuremberg, 1851. Pupil of her father, Johann Leonhard Raab, in etching and engraving.
She was able to engage a cabin, and went on board almost at the last moment. Among others who arrived very late was a bent old man, with a worn face which had once been handsome. Carmen did not see him till the third day out. Then, from the deck sacred to second-class passengers, a pair of dark blue, red-rimmed eyes looked up at her as she leaned listlessly on the rail, gazing down.
He made the cab wait for him, and, having got Pierre's ticket, put him in a second-class carriage and saw that his box was safely placed in the luggage-van. The station was crowded with people going and others coming to say goodbye; the rain was beating on the high- arched tin roof, and the engine at the end of the long train was fretting and fuming like a living thing impatient to be gone.
The deck below, set apart for the exclusive use of the second-class passengers, was now tenantless, but the port of every cabin was aglow with light, showing pretty conclusively that the people there were following Dick's advice.
"He knows his business." "I wonder what those men on the deck are writing. They've been scribbling away ever since we came here. Probably society journalists. We shall see in next week's Sphere: 'Among the second-class passengers we noticed Mr. "Spike" Mullins, looking as cheery as ever. It's a pity you're so set on going, Spike. Why not change your mind, and stop?"
At the time he must have thought I was going by one of the regular liners; but it is plain he followed me up pretty close and found I was going over this way. As there is no second-class passage on this boat, he decided he could not travel in the same class with me without being discovered, and he resolved to go as one of the crew, if he could get on that way. That's how he happens to be here."
"We're a rich country," said a man to his neighbour; "but, if you don't pay for it, you must take your luck, and they'll make you as uncomfortable as they can." "Ay," said the other. "I've travelled on the Continent. The second-class carriages there are fit for anybody to travel in. This is what comes of the worship of money the individual is not respected. Pounds alone!"
Finally, it was thought that the man and the woman discovered under the balcony by Cuddie McGill on the night of the murder, were confederates in the crime, and the woman was the midnight passenger to whom Donald McNeil sold the second-class railway ticket to London, and that the heavy black bag she carried contained the booty taken from the castle.
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