I Married A Dead Man Read Online Free PDF Page A

leaned down and whispered, "Pat, one of the porters just tipped me off. They're going to open up the dining-car in a couple of minutes. Special, inside, advance information. You know what that'll mean in this mob. I think we better start moving up that way if we want to get in under the rope on the first shift. There'll be a stampede under way as soon as word gets around."
                    She jumped to her feet with alacrity.
                    He immediately soft-pedalled her with the flats of both hands, in comic intensity. "Sh! Don't give it away! What are you trying to do? Act indifferent. Act as if you weren't going anywhere in particular, were just getting up to stretch your legs."
                    She smothered an impish chuckle. "When I'm going to the dining-car, I just can't act as if I weren't going anywhere in particular. It stands out all over me. You're lucky if you hold me down to a twenty-yard dash." But to oblige his ideas of Machiavellian duplicity, she exaggeratedly arched her feet and tiptoed out into the aisle, as though the amount of noise she made had any relation to what they were trying to do.
                    In passing, she pulled persuasively at the sleeve of the girl beside her. "Come on. You're coming with us, aren't you?" she whispered conspiratorially.
                    "What about the seats? We'll lose them, won't we?"
                    "Not if we put our baggage on them. Here, like this." She raised the other girl's valise, which had been standing there in the aisle until now, and between them they planked it lengthwise across the seat, effectively blocking it.
                    The girl was on her feet now, dislodged by the valise, but she still hung back, hesitant about going with them.
                    The young wife seemed to understand; she was quick that way. She sent him on ahead, out of earshot, to break trail for them. Then turned to her recent seat-mate in tactful reassurance. "Don't worry about--anything; he'll look after everything." And then, making confidantes of the two of them about this, to minimize the other's embarrassment, she promised her: "I'll see that he does. That's what they're for, anyway."
                    The girl tried to falter an insincere denial, that only proved the surmise had been right "No, it isn't that--I don't like to--"
                    But her new friend had already taken her acceptance for an accomplished fact, had no more time to waste on it. "Hurry up, we'll lose him," she urged. "They're closing in again behind him."
                    She urged her forward ahead of herself, a friendly hand lightly placed just over her outside hip.
                    "You can't neglect yourself now, of all times," she cautioned her in an undertone. "I know . They told me that myself."
                    The pioneering husband, meanwhile, was cutting a wide swath for them down the center of the clogged aisle, causing people to lean acutely in over the seats to give clearance. And yet with never a resentful look. He seemed to have that way about him; genial but firm.
                    "It's useful to have a husband who used to be on the football team," his bride commented complacently. "He can run your interference for you. Just look at the width of that back, would you?"
                    When they had overtaken him, she complained petulantly, "Wait for me, can't you? I have two to feed."
                    "So have I," was the totally unchivalrous remark over his shoulder. "And they're both me."
                    They were, by dint of his foresight, the first ones in the dining-car, which was inundated within moments after the doors had been thrown open. They secured a choice table for three, diagonal to a window. The unlucky ones