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We are at the district capital We get out at the railway station Wanda throws off her furs and places theoes to secure the tickets

When she returns she has coor," she says in a tone which supercilious ladies use to their servants

"A third-class ticket," I reply with comic horror

"Of course," she continues, "but now be careful You won't get on until I aer At each station you will hurry to ive me my furs"

After I had helped her into them, humbly like a slave, she went to find an e herself on ot on and I wrapped her feet in bear-skins and placed the bottle

Then she nodded to e, which was filled with abos of Acheron at the entrance to Hades I now had the leisure to reatest riddle of all--woman