‘Oh, but you’re quite wrong in my particular instance,’
said the Swiss patient, quietly. ‘Of course I can’t argue the
matter, because I know only my own case; but my doctor
gave me money—and he had very little—to pay my
journey back, besides having kept me at his own expense,
while there, for nearly two years.’
‘Why? Was there no one else to pay for you?’ asked the
black- haired one.
‘No—Mr. Pavlicheff, who had been supporting me
there, died a couple of years ago. I wrote to Mrs. General
Epanchin at the time (she is a distant relative of mine), but
she did not answer my letter. And so eventually I came
back.’
‘And where have you come to?’
‘That is—where am I going to stay? I—I really don’t
quite know yet, I—‘
Both the listeners laughed again.
‘I suppose your whole set-up is in that bundle, then?’
asked the first.
‘I bet anything it is!’ exclaimed the red-nosed
passenger, with extreme satisfaction, ‘and that he has
precious little in the luggage van!—though of course
poverty is no crime—we must remember that!’