"My portrait!" echoed Jack. They struck her as cold and indifferent. " "Then it was not a dream!" ejaculated Sir Rowland in a hollow voice, and as if speaking to himself. She had a compartment to herself in the train from London to Morningside Park, and she sat with both her feet on the seat in an attitude that would certainly have distressed her mother to see, and horrified her grandmother beyond measure; she sat with her knees up to her chin and her hands clasped before them, and she was so lost in thought that she discovered with a start, from a lettered lamp, that she was at Morningside Park, and thought she was moving out of the station, whereas she was only moving in. Doctors constantly admonished and offered weak consolation that most would have been hurt much worse from the type of fall he took. I miss them so. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it.
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