chapter 10 on the blue train
"dad!"
mrs kettering started violently. her nerves were not completely under control this morning. very perfectly dressed in a long mink coat and a little hat of chinese lacquer red, she had been walking along the crowded platform of victoria deep in thought, and her father's sudden appearance and hearty greeting had an unlooked- for effect upon her.
"why, ruth, how you jumped!"
"i didn't expect to see you, i suppose, dad. you said good-bye to me last night and said you had a conference this morning."
"so i have," said van aldin, "but you are more to me than any number of darned conferences. i came to take a last look at you, since i am not going to see you for some time."
"that is very sweet of you, dad. i wish you were coming too."
"what would you say if i did?"
the remark was merely a joking one. he was surprised to see the quick colour flame in ruth's cheeks. for a moment he almost thought he saw dismay flash out of her eyes.
she laughed uncertainly and nervously.
"just for a moment i really thought you meant it," she said.
"would you have been pleased?"
"of course." she spoke with exaggerated emphasis.
"well," said van aldin, "that's good."
"it isn't really for very long, dad," continued ruth, "you know, you are coming out next month."
"ah!" said van aldin unemotionally, "sometimes i guess i will go to one of these smug guys in harley street and have him tell me that i need sunshine and change of air right away."
"don't be so lazy," cried ruth, "next month is ever so much nicer than this month out there. you have got all sorts of things. you can't possibly leave just now."
"well, that's so, i suppose," said van aldin with a sigh. "you had better be getting on board this train of yours, ruth. which is your seat?"
ruth kettering looked vaguely up at the train. at the door of one of the pullman cars a thin, tall woman dressed in black was standing
-ruth kettering's maid. she drew aside as her mistress came up to her.
"i have put your dressing-case under your seat, madam, in case you should need it. shall i take the rugs, or will you require one?"
"no, no, i shan't want one. better go and find your own seat now, mason."
"yes, madam."
the maid departed.
van aldin entered the pullman car with ruth. she found her seat, and van aldin deposited various papers and magazines on the table in front of her. the seat opposite to her was already taken, and the american gave a cursory glance at its occupant. he had a fleeting impression of attractive grey eyes and a neat travelling costume. he indulged in a little more desultory conversation with ruth, the kind of talk peculiar to those seeing other people off by train.
presently, as whistles blew, he glanced at his watch.
"i had best be clearing out of here. good-bye. don't worry, i will attend to things."
"oh, father!"
he turned back sharply. there had been something in ruth's voice, something so entirely foreign to her usual manner, that he was startled. it was almost a cry of despair. she had made an impulsive movement towards him, but in another minute she was mistress of herself once more.
"till next month," she said cheerfully.
two minutes later the train started. ruth sat very still, biting her under lip and trying hard to keep the unaccustomed tears from her eyes. she felt a sudden sense of horrible desolation. there was a wild longing upon her to jump out of the train and to go back before it was too late. she, so calm, so self-assured, for the first time in her life felt like a leaf swept by the wind. if her father knew - what would he say?
madness! yes, just that, madness! for the first time in her life she was swept away by emotion, swept away to the point of doing a thing which even she knew to be incredibly foolish and reckless. she was enough van aldin's daughter to realize her own folly, and level-headed enough to condemn her own action. but she was his
daughter in another sense also. she had that same iron determination that would have what it wanted and once it had made up its mind would not be balked. from her cradle she had been self-willed; the very circumstances of her life had developed that self-will in her. it drove her now remorselessly. well, the die was cast. she must go through with it now.
she looked up, and her eyes met those of the woman sitting opposite. she had a sudden fancy that in some way this other woman had read her mind. she saw in those grey eyes
understanding and - yes - compassion.
it was only a fleeting impression. the faces of both women hardened to well-bred impassiveness. mrs kettering took up a magazine, and katherine grey looked out of the window and watched a seemingly endless vista of depressing streets and suburban houses.
ruth found an increasing difficulty in fixing her mind on the printed page in front of her. in spite of herself, a thousand apprehensions preyed on her mind. what a fool she had been! what a fool she was! like all cool and self-sufficient people, when she did lose her self-control she lost it thoroughly - it was too late... was it too late?
oh, for someone to speak to, for someone to advise her. she had never before had such a wish; she would have scorned the idea of relying on any judgment other than her own, but now - what was the matter with her? panic. yes, that would describe it best - panic. she, ruth kettering, was completely and utterly panic stricken.
she stole a covert glance at the figure opposite.
if only she knew someone like that, some nice, cool, calm, sympathetic creature.
that was the sort of person one could talk to. but you can't, of course, confide in a stranger. and ruth smiled to herself a little at the idea. she picked up the magazine again. really she must control herself. after all, she had thought all this out. she had decided of her own free will. what happiness had she ever had in her life up to now? she said to herself restlessly: "why shouldn't i be happy? no one will ever know."
it seemed no time before dover was reached. ruth was a good sailor. she disliked the cold, and was glad to reach the shelter of the private cabin she had telegraphed for. although she would not have admitted the fact, ruth was in some ways superstitious. she was of the order of people to whom coincidence appeals. after disembarking at calais and settling herself down with her maid in her double compartment in the blue train, she went along to the luncheon car.
it was with a little shock of surprise that she found herself set down to a small table with, opposite her, the same woman who had been her vis-a-vis in the pullman. a faint smile came to the lips of both women.
"this is quite a coincidence," said mrs kettering.
"i know," said katherine, "it is odd the way things happen."
a flying attendant shot up to them with the wonderful velocity always displayed by the compagnie internationale des wagons- lits and deposited two cups of soup. by the time the omelette succeeded the soup they were chatting together in friendly fashion.
"it will be heavenly to get into the sunshine," sighed ruth.
"i am sure it will be a wonderful feeling."
"you know the riviera well?"
"no; this is my first visit."
"fancy that."
"you go every year, i expect?"
"practically. january and february in london are horrible."
"i have always lived in the country. they are not very inspiring months there either. mostly mud."
"what made you suddenly decide to travel?"
"money," said katherine. "for ten years i have been a paid companion with just enough money of my own to buy myself strong country shoes; now i have been left what seems to me a fortune, though i dare say it would not seem so to you."
"now i wonder why you say that - that it would not seem so to me."
katherine laughed. "i don't really know. i suppose one forms impressions without thinking of it. i put you down in my own mind as one of the very rich of the earth. it was just an impression. i dare say i am wrong."
"no," said ruth, "you are not wrong."
she had suddenly become very grave. "i wish you would tell me what other impressions you formed about me?"
"i -"
ruth swept on disregarding the other's embarrassment.
"oh, please, don't be conventional. i want to know. as we left victoria i looked across at you, and i had the sort of feeling that you - well, understood what was going on in my mind."
"i can assure you i am not a mind reader," said katherine, smiling.
"no; but will you tell me, please, just what you thought." ruth's eagerness was so intense and so sincere that she carried her point.
"i will tell you if you like, but you must not think me impertinent. i thought that for some reason you were in great distress of mind, and i was sorry for you."
"you are right. you are quite right. i am in terrible trouble. i - i should like to tell you something about it, if i may."
"oh, dear," katherine thought to herself, "how extraordinarily alike the world seems to be everywhere! people were always telling me things in st mary mead, and it is just the same thing here, and i don't really want to hear anybody's troubles!"
she replied politely:
"do tell me."
they were just finishing their lunch. ruth gulped down her coffee, rose from her seat, and quite oblivious of the fact that katherine had not begun to sip her coffee, said: "come to my compartment with me."
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."
"yes," said katherine again.
"what i feel so badly about is this. i have deceived my father - it was he who came to see me off at victoria today. he wishes me to divorce my husband, and, of course, he has no idea - that i am going to meet this other man. he would think it extraordinarily foolish."
"well, don't you think it is?"
"i suppose it is."
ruth kettering looked down at her hands; they were shaking violently.
"but i can't draw back now."
"why not?"
"i - it is all arranged, and it would break his heart."
"don't you believe it," said katherine robustly, "hearts are pretty tough."
"he will think i have no courage, no strength of purpose."
"it seems to me an awfully silly thing that you are going to do," said katherine. "i think you realize that yourself."
ruth kettering buried her face in her hands. "i don't know - i don't know. ever since i left victoria i have had a horrible feeling of something - something that is coming to me very soon - that i can't escape."
she clutched convulsively at katherine's hand.
"you must think i am mad talking to you like this, but i tell you i know something horrible is going to happen."
"don't think it," said katherine, "try to pull yourself together. you could send your father a wire from paris, if you like, and he would come to you at once."
the other brightened.
"yes, i could do that. dear old dad. it is queer - but i never knew until today how terribly fond of him i am." she sat up and dried her eyes with a handkerchief. "i have been very foolish. thank you so much for letting me talk to you. i don't know why i got into such a queer, hysterical state."
she got up. "i am quite all right now. i suppose, really, i just needed someone to talk to. i can't think now why i have been making such an absolute fool of myself."
katherine got up too.
"i am so glad you feel better," she said, trying to make her voice sound as conventional as possible. she was only too well aware that the aftermath of confidences is embarrassment. she added tactfully:
"i must be going back to my own compartment."
she emerged into the corridor at the same time as the maid was also coming out from the next door. the latter looked towards katherine, over her shoulder, and an expression of intense surprise showed itself on her face. katherine turned also, but by that time whoever it was who had aroused the maid's interest had retreated into his or her compartment, and the corridor was empty. katherine walked down it to regain her own place, which was in the next coach. as she passed the end compartment the door opened and a woman's face looked out for a moment and then pulled the door to sharply.
it was a face not easily forgotten, as katherine was to know when she saw it again. a beautiful face, oval and dark, very heavily made up in a bizarre fashion. katherine had a feeling that she had seen it before somewhere.
she regained her own compartment without other adventure and sat for some time thinking of the confidence which had just been made to her. she wondered idly who the woman in the mink coat might be, wondered also how the end of her story would turn out.
"if i have stopped anyone from making an idiot of themselves, i suppose i have done good work," she thought to herself. "but who knows? that is the kind of woman who is hard-headed and egotistical all her life, and it might be good for her to do the other sort of thing for a change. oh, well - i don't suppose i shall ever see her again. she certainly won't want to see me again. that is the worst of letting people tell you things. they never do."
she hoped that she would not be given the same table at dinner. she reflected, not without humour, that it might be awkward for both of them. leaning back with her head against a cushion she felt tired and vaguely depressed. they had reached paris, and the slow journey round the ceinture, with its interminable stops and waits, was very wearisome.
when they arrived at the gare de lyon she was glad to get out and walk up and down the platform. the keen cold air was refreshing after the steam-heated train.
she observed with a smile that her friend of the mink coat was solving the possible awkwardness of the dinner problem in her own way. a dinner basket was being handed up and received through the window by the maid.
when the train started once more, and dinner was announced by a violent ringing of bells, katherine went along to it much relieved in mind. her vis-a-vis tonight was of an entirely different kind - a small man, distinctly foreign in appearance, with a rigidly waxed moustache and an egg-shaped head which he carried rather on one side. katherine had taken in a book to dinner with her. she found the little man's eyes fixed on it with a kind of twinkling amusement.
"i see, madame, that you have a roman policier. you are fond of such things?"
"they amuse me," katherine admitted.
the little man nodded with the air of complete understanding.
"they have a good sale always, so i am told. now why is that, eh, mademoiselle? i ask it of you as a student of human nature - why should that be?"
katherine felt more and more amused.
"perhaps they give one the illusion of living an exciting life," she suggested.
he nodded gravely.
"yes, there is something in that."
"of course, one knows that such things don't really happen," katherine was continuing, but he interrupted her sharply.
"sometimes, mademoiselle! sometimes! i who speak to you - they have happened to me."
she threw him a quick, interested glance.
"some day, who knows, you might be in the thick of things," he went on. "it is all chance."
"i don't think it is likely," said katherine, "nothing of that kind ever happens to me."
he leaned forward.
"would you like it to?"
the question startled her, and she drew in her breath sharply.
"it is my fancy, perhaps," said the little man, as he dexterously polished one of the forks, "but i think that you have a yearning in you for interesting happenings. eh bien, mademoiselle, all through my life i have observed one thing - 'all one wants one gets!' who knows?" his face screwed itself up comically. "you may get more than you bargain for."
"is that a prophecy?" asked katherine, smiling as she rose from the table.
the little man shook his head.
"i never prophesy," he declared pompously. "it is true that i have the habit of being always right - but i do not boast of it. good- night, mademoiselle, and may you sleep well."
katherine went back along the train amused and entertained by her little neighbour.
she passed the open door of her friend's compartment and saw the conductor making up the bed. the lady in the mink coat was standing looking out of the window. the second compartment, as
katherine saw trough the communicating door, was empty, with rugs and bags heaped up on the mat. the maid was not there.
katherine found her own bed prepared and since she was tired, she went to bed and switched off her light about half-past nine.
she woke with a sudden start; how much time had passed she did
not know. glancing at her watch, she found that it had stopped.
a feeling of intense uneasiness pervaded her and grew stronger moment by moment. at last she got up, threw her dressing-gown round her shoulders, and stepped out into the corridor. the whole train seemed wrapped in slumber. katherine let down the window
and sat by it for some minutes, drinking in the cool night air and trying vainly to calm her uneasy fears. she presently decided that she would go along to the end and ask the conductor for the right time so that she could set her watch. she found, however, that his little chair was vacant.
she hesitated for a moment and then walked through into the next coach. she looked down the long, dim line of the corridor and saw, to her surprise, that a man was standing with his hand on the door of the compartment occupied by the lady in the mink coat. that is to say, she thought it was the compartment. probably, however, she was mistaken. he stood there for a moment or two with his back to her, seeming uncertain and hesitating in his attitude. then he slowly turned, and with an odd feeling of fatality, katherine recognized him as the same man whom she had noticed
twice before - once in the corridor of the savoy hotel and once in cook's offices. then he opened the door of the compartment and passed in, drawing it to behind him.
an idea flashed across katherine's mind. could this be the man of whom the other woman had spoken - the man she was journeying
to meet.
then katherine told herself that she was romancing. in all probability she had mistaken the compartment.
she went back to her own carriage. five minutes later the train slackened speed.
there was the long plaintive hiss of the westinghouse brake, and a few minutes later the train came to a stop at lyons.
第十章 “蓝色特快”
“爸爸！”
凯特林女士吓了一跳。她控制不了她的过于脆弱的神经。她穿着一件贵重的皮大衣，头戴着一项贵重的中国式的帽子，在挤满旅客的月台上踱来踱去。她无论如何也想不到父亲会突然出现在她的面前。
“你好象是受惊了，露丝。”
“我没有想到你会来，爸爸。你昨天就同我告别了，你还告诉我说，今天你不来送我，因为你要参加一个会。”
“噢，原来如此。”冯·阿尔丁说，“你比世界上任何会议都重要。”
“爸爸，你真好。遗憾的是你不能和我一起走。”
“我打算同你一道走，使你高兴高兴。”
父亲对女儿的这种表白尽管是一种玩笑，可是露丝却信以为真，脸上即刻泛出了红晕。她觉得父亲的这种表白对她来说很可怕。她神经质地笑着，假装不大相信的样子。
“我还以为您说的是真的呢。”她说道。
“你高兴我去吗？”
“当然。”她回答道，但听起来不象真心话。
“我非常高兴听到你的这样回答。”冯·阿尔丁说。
“可是，爸爸，您下个月就要去巴黎了，在这之前工作离不开，你是不会同我一道去的。”
“可异啊，可异！”冯·阿尔丁叹了一口气。“现在你可以去找你的座位了。”
露丝·凯特林向周围瞟了一眼。卧车车厢门口站着一个穿黑色衣服的高个头的女人，这是露丝的女仆。
“我已经把您的小手提包放在您的座位上了，尊敬的夫人。”
“谢谢，马松。现在你最好去看看你的座位在哪里？”
“是，夫人。”
女仆走了，冯·阿尔丁陪着露丝到了车上。他把一大堆报纸和杂志放在她的座位旁边的桌子上。对面的座位已经有一位女士坐在那里。美国佬向那个女士看了一眼。她那双蓝眼睛给他留下了深刻的印象。美国佬又同女儿谈了几句，看了看手表。
“看来我应该下车了。火车马上就要开了。再见，孩子，放心吧，我一切都会安排好的。”
“爸爸！”
冯·阿尔丁突然回过头来。露丝的这一声喊叫过去很少听到过，使人不寒而栗。这种声音几乎同喊“救命”一样。她不由自主地做了一个扑向冯·阿尔丁的姿势，可是她又立即抑制住了自己。
“下个月见。”他兴高采烈地说道。
一分钟之后火车开动了。
露丝一动不动地坐在那里，竭力控制那不由自主地流下来的眼泪。她蓦然感到自己是那样的孤独。在火车开动的那一瞬间她真想跳下去，但是已经迟了。她，平常是那样自信和平静的人，生平头一次觉得自己宛如一片随着秋风飘荡的落叶。若是她父亲知道她心乱如麻，他又会怎样呢？
胡闹，完全是胡闹！有生以来她第一次忍受感情的摆弄，在冲动中去做一件她明知是愚蠢的事。做为冯·阿尔丁的女儿，她十分明白自己的此举纯属一种愚蠢的行为。但做为他的女儿，她还具有另外一方面的特征：同他一样，只要是头脑里有什么想法，就非去实现它不可。从幼年起她就形成了这种性格。
事情已成定局。无法挽回了。
她环顾了一下四周，看到了对面的旅伴。她仿佛觉得，对面这位女士已经完全猜透了她的心绪。从对方的眼神里，她看得出好象对她有所理解和同情。但这只是一个短暂的印象。正因为如此，两位女士的面部表情又都流露出若无其事的样子，凯特林女士拿起一本杂志。卡泰丽娜·格蕾面向窗外。
但是露丝却无法把思想集中在读物的内容上。不祥的念头折磨着她。她多傻呀！但又能如何呢，已经太晚了……真的是太晚了吗？如果现在有人同她谈一谈，劝一劝她，将会怎样呢？她的恐惧心理愈来愈重。
她偷偷地瞟了一眼对面的坐着的女士。是的，同这个女人看来是很容易攀谈的。但是未免有些欠考虑，怎么可以随便向一个陌生人倾吐自己内心的秘密呢！这种想法实在是很可笑的。最后她终于把一切都考虑妥当。她有生以来有谁给过她幸福？为什么这种幸福不去尝试一下……？
谁也不会知道这件事。
火车向多佛尔飞驰。在英吉利海峡摆渡的轮船里，她很快就找到了预订好的卧铺，然后很快就到餐车上去用饭。当看到对面坐着的那位女士正是在火车上遇到的那位的时候，她感到有些意外，两个女士都会心地微笑起来。
“多么巧呀！”凯特林女士说。
“是啊，真巧。”卡泰丽娜也笑着说。
侍者奔忙着端菜送饭。当吃完第一道菜的时候，两位女士已经象老朋友一样攀谈起来了。
“我非常高兴，在阳光充足的季节到南方去。”凯特林说，“您对利维埃拉很熟悉吗？”
“不，我第一次到那里去。”
“这怎么可能！”
“您每年都去南方旅行吗？”
“几乎是这样，一、二月份的伦敦真叫人讨厌。”
“我一直住在乡下。那里冬天阳光很少。”
“您怎么突然决定去旅行了呢？”
“钱，”卡泰丽娜说，“我当了十年的养女，挣得的钱只能够买一双过冬的棉鞋。
现在我突然得到了一大笔钱，当然，在您说来这种事是不会发生的。”
“您为什么这样认为呢？”
卡泰丽娜笑了。
“我自己也不知道！不知怎的，我感到您很富有。当然也可能是错误的。”
“不，”露丝说，“您没有错。”她突然严肃起来。“如果我允许的话，请问，您对我的印象如何？”
“我……”
“请您坦白地说。我对此很感兴趣。当我在伦敦站台上第一次看到您的时候，就觉得您好象看透了我的内心世界。”
“感谢上帝，我可不是个算命先生。”卡泰丽娜微笑着说道。
“尽管如此，我还是衷心地请求您，把对我的印象告诉我。”
她说得那样的真挚和诚恳，使得卡泰丽娜不得不回答她的问题。
“我想对您说，但是您不要以为我没有礼貌。我的印象是，您的内心非常空虚。”
“您说得对。完全正确。我的心情很坏。我想对您谈谈。可以吗？”
“这关我什么事”，卡泰丽娜这样想，但她还是很有礼貌地回答道：
“当然可以。”
露丝把咖啡喝完，站了起来，也不理会卡泰丽娜的咖啡还没有喝，就说道：
“走，到我的包厢去。”
旁边的一个包厢通过一道门同凯特林夫人的包厢相连，里面坐着那个女仆，手里紧握着一个小皮包，上面有r·k·的字样。凯特林女士关上了门，坐在一个枕头旁。卡泰丽娜坐在她的身旁。
“我现在犹豫的很，也得不到任何人的忠告。我爱上了一个人。特别爱他。我们从小就青梅竹马，但是被人残酷地分开了。我们现在又找到了相互的地址。”
“以后呢？”
“我们常见面，您可能从坏处看待我，但是您不了解内情。我的丈夫非常不象话，他使我蒙受着耻辱。”
“非常遗憾。”她又能说些什么呢？
“只是有一件事使我伤心：我把我父亲瞒过了。就是在火车站上和我告别的那位先生。他主张我同丈夫离婚，可是他哪里知道，我是同另外一个男人去约会。他一定以为我是个大傻瓜。”
“可是，这难道不是件傻事吗？”
露丝·凯特林瞅着自己的手，神经质地瞅着。“我不能回去了。”
“为什么？”
“一切都办妥了，否则他会心碎的。”
“不见得吧。”卡泰丽娜单调地说，“一个人的心不会那样轻而易碎的。”
“他会认为，我是个意志薄弱而没有勇气的人。”
“您的所作所为，我认为既欠考虑，也不明智。”卡泰丽娜说，“我想您自己也许知道。”
露丝用双手蒙住了脸。
“我不知道！我不知道！整个旅程中我总觉得要发生什么事，这种事肯定要降临到我头上。”
她痉挛地握住了卡泰丽娜的手。
“您一定认为我无法理解：为什么会同您谈这些事。可是我要告诉您：要发生非常可怕的事。”
“别这样想，”卡泰丽娜说。“您要设法控制一下自己。您可以在巴黎给您父亲打个电报。他会马上到您这里来。”
露丝脸上的气色舒展起来。
“是的，我可以打电报，我爱我的老爸爸。直到今天我才发现，我是多么爱他。”她站起来擦干眼泪。
“我的确有点糊涂。非常、非常感谢您能同我聊聊。”她站了起来。
“我现在感觉好多了，我连自己也不明白，我会是那样的蠢。”
卡泰丽娜也站了起来。
“我真高兴您的心情好了起来。”她尽量用最世俗的语调说。她只知道，在一个人做过这样一种忏悔之后，会有另一种难以言传的羞愧感。她告别了露丝，回到自己的包厢里去。
这时，凯特林的女仆也离开了包厢。她是那样惊慌失措地看着卡泰丽娜走来的方向，使卡泰丽娜也情不自禁地回头望了一眼。女仆的惊慌是没有什么理由的，因为车厢空无一人。卡泰丽娜继续走向她那在另一节车厢里的包厢。当她走到那一节车厢最后一个包厢时，看到了一张女人的面孔，随后猛地关上了包厢的门。这是一张使人不能忘却的、微黑而漂亮的面孔，她很动人，但打扮得有些古怪。卡泰丽娜觉得似乎在哪儿看见过她。
“如果我阻止她从事这一次可笑的冒险，那么我将会做一件好事。”卡泰丽娜坐在自己的包厢里思索着。“可是谁知道呢？这个女人给我的印象是，几乎一生都是个冷冰冰的自私鬼。对这种人来说，要是突然对某个人开始强烈的追求，那可能更好些。此外，但愿我再也不要见到她。无论如何，我是再也没有同她见面的兴趣了。”
她躺在枕头上，突然感到浑身发软。火车快到巴黎了，缓慢地在城郊绕行，使卡泰丽娜感到很无聊。高兴的是火车在里昂站停了几分钟，可以到外面去散散步，呼吸些新鲜空气。冷空气使她觉得很舒服，因为火车里过于闷热了。她的那位新女友在列车里订了盒饭，这太好了；否则，如果在餐车里又遇上这个穿皮大衣的女人，并和她面对面的一起吃饭，那未免太可怕了。
列车又开动了。到了吃饭时间。卡泰丽娜立刻到了餐车里。这次，坐在她对面的却是个小老头，头盖骨象个鸡蛋。一小撮山羊胡须，这说明他不是英国人。卡泰丽娜从包厢里带了一本书。她发现小老头好奇地注视着她那本书的书名。
“看来，这位小姐是有看一本侦探小说。您喜欢看这一类读物吗？”
“是的，我觉得写得很神秘。”卡泰丽娜回答道。
小老头点了一下头，似乎他完全理解这种爱好。这个人身材很奇怪，脑袋稍微有点歪斜，象只金丝鸟。
“我听说，这种书的发行量非常之大，为什么呢？小姐，请问，这是为什么？”
卡泰丽娜越来越发生了兴趣。
“可能是因为这种书制造了一种幻想并把这种幻想反映到生活中去，而在生活中有可能出现类似这种幻想的东西。”卡泰丽娜说道。
小老头很郑重地点了下头。“其实，有些事可能是真实的。”
“当然生活中很少出现这种事情，这是人人皆知的事。”
“恰恰相反，小姐。我可以同您说说。我就是处理这种事的人。这种事常常发生。”
卡泰丽娜向他投以敏捷而兴味盎然的一瞥。
“谁能预料到呢，也许突然有一天您被卷到一个案子中去。”小老头继续说。“生活中许多事情的发生都带有偶然性。”
“我相信。”卡泰丽娜说，“但我永远不会经历这种事的。”
小老头向她鞠了一躬。
“您想体验一下吗？”
这一问把卡泰丽娜吓了一跳，她的心怦怦直跳，胸脯一起一伏。
“这可能是种想象。”小老头说。“可是我总觉很您仿佛要成为一起骇人听闻的案件的中心人物。好吧，小姐，我在这方面是有经验的，而且我觉得，如果一个人急切地思虑某件事，这件事就会向他扑来。谁知道呢？”他滑稽歪了一下头。“也有可能，您所经历的要比您所喜欢的更多。”
“这是预言吗？”卡泰丽娜询问着，站起身来，面带笑容。
小老头摇了摇头。
“我从来不作任何预言。”他严肃地说道，“但应该说，我的预测总是十分正确。
我从来不吹牛，晚安，小姐，希望您休息得好。”
卡泰丽娜回到了自己的包厢，回忆着小老头的话，微笑在脸面上一闪而过。当她走过她那位女友的包厢的时，看到乘务员正在铺床。穿着皮大衣的女士面朝窗子向外张望，隔壁的包厢空无一人，被褥、旅行包都堆放在坐位上。女仆人没在里面。卡泰丽娜回到了自己的包厢，因为她感到很累，所以九点半就熄了灯。
她突然醒来时，一点儿也不知道，列车行驶了多长时间。她看了一下表，表肯定停了。不安的情绪越来越沉重。最后她围上披肩走出包厢。整列火车仿佛都沉浸在梦乡中。
她把窗子打开，呼吸着外面的新鲜空气。但始终无法排除那种恐惧的心理。最后她决定到车厢尾部找一下乘务员打听一下准确的时间。但是，那里没有人。她犹豫了一会儿，又决定到下一节车厢去。她看到整个车厢的过道里闪烁着半明半暗的灯光，而且使她感到意外的是，在她女朋友的包厢旁边站着一个男人，手扶着门把手。她是否搞错了？这是另一个包厢吧？他在那里站了好一会儿，背朝着卡泰丽娜。他好象有点踌躇不定，然后转过身来。一种命里注定的感觉使她认出了他，即那个两次相遇的男人。一次在萨沃旅馆，一次在考瑞克旅行社。他开门走进了包厢，随手把门关上。
卡泰丽娜思忖着：他是否就是穿皮大衣的女人所追求的那个男人呢？
但是她立即就又否定了自己的想法，一定是看错了包厢，那根本不是她那新女友的包厢。她回到了自己的车厢。五分钟之后火车放慢了速度。人们清楚地听到火车的刹车声。这时火车进入了里昂站。
