cordingly, he began to trace meaningless lines automatically across the sheet of blank paper.
He was startled from his distrait mood by a voice which asked if he would like to take a hand at cards. Ambrose was so embarrassed by this request that he refused almost rudely with a curt No. To be suddenly addressed by a stranger on a train upset him horribly, the more so because he harboured a vague memory to the effect that all such propositions made on moving vehicles came from the lips of card sharps and crooks. Moreover, he really knew nothing whatever about cards. Beyond his obvious ability to decipher their pips correctly he was unacquainted with their properties. Besides, he did not like the appearance of his neighbour, a man of about fifty, of gross build and florid countenance, his head set squarely on his shoulders above an inch of bull neck. The features were undistinguished. The fellow resembled a dozen men one saw every day—unless an exception might be made in favour of his eyes, grey-blue eyes, kindly and staring at the same time, almost impertinently staring. Their owner was dressed in tweed plus fours and retained his coat, although his white linen shirt was open at the throat.
Ambrose flushed as he withdrew his gaze and awkwardly rose. As he made his way back through
