"What a practical man you are! Fancy thinking of such things as a
forgotten coat and a dressing-bag when we've just escaped with our lives!"

"Well, you may as well have them," he returned gruffly. "Wait here."
And he disappeared into the darkness, returning presently with the
various odds and ends which she had left in the carriage.

Soon afterwards the emergency train came up, and those who could took
their places, whilst the injured were lifted by kindly, careful hands
into the ambulance compartment. The train drew slowly away from the
scene of the accident, gradually gathering speed, and Diana, worn out
with strain and excitement, dozed fitfully to the rhythmic rumbling of
the wheels.

She woke with a start to find that the train was slowing down and her
companion gathering his belongings together preparatory to departure.
She sprang up and slipping off the overcoat she was still wearing, handed
it back to him. He seemed reluctant to take it from her.

"Shall you be warm enough?" he asked doubtfully.

"Oh, yes. It's only half-an-hour's run from here to Craiford Junction,
and there they'll meet me with plenty of wraps." She hesitated a moment,
then went on shyly: "I can't thank you properly for all you've done."

"Don't," he said curtly. "It was little enough. But I'm glad I was
there."

The train came to a standstill, and she held out her hand.