driver only hold the keys. Suddenly a bell rings, and, with a sigh of relief, you ensconce your friend comfortably in the carriage. Surely the train is just off now. You look furtively along to see if the guard isn't signalling to the driver to start. But the guard is engaged in animated and prolonged conversation with the fussy old gentleman whose seat is in the last carriage. You look back quickly at your friend, who is leaning out of the window. You catch his eye and feel unhappy and foolish, having nothing more to say.
'You'll soon be off now,' you stammer confusedly, and immediately regret having said it, for fear there may be too great a note of satisfaction in your voice.
'Yes; we ought to be off now,' your friend answers fatuously, looking at his watch for the third time within the minute. Then there is another pause. That train looks as if it meant to cling to that platform till the very last gasp. You daren't look along again to find out what the guard is doing, for you are conscious that your friend is looking down on you from the carriage window. You feel desperately that you must say something else. 'You'll let me know you get home safely?' you blurt out before you remember that you've already asked that twice.
Then at last the whistle goes, and you suppress a sigh of infinite relief. Your friend sinks back into the seat.
'Now you're off,' you say, careless that you are beaming joyfully. The train actually moves.
