The "rockerty-tockerty-tock" refrain of the carriage-wheels below me
changed into a jarring whine as the train came to a full stop. I looked out
on a dim-lit platform which seemed to be peopled only by a squad of
milk-cans standing shoulder to shoulder like Noah's Ark soldiers.
As the engine shrieked and plunged into its collar again the door was
jerked open and a man projected himself into the carriage and, opening the
window so that the compartment was flooded with cold air, leaned out and
resumed his conversation with a friend till the train bore him out of
shouting range. He then pulled up the window, trod on my foot, sat on my
lap and eventually came to rest on the seat opposite me.
It was a small man, red of head and bright of eye. He wore his cap at the
back of his head, so as to exhibit to an admiring world a carefully-
cultured curl of the "quiff" variety, which was plastered across his
forehead with a great expenditure of grease. His tie was a ready-made bow
of shot-colours, red, green, blue and purple, and from his glittering
watch-chain hung many fanciful medals, like soles upon a line.
"Brother-in-law to me," he remarked, jerking his thumb towards the
back-rushing lights of Exeter.
"Who?" I inquired.
"That young feller I was talking to just now. Didn't you see me talking to
a young feller?"
"Oh, yes, I believe I did hear you talking to somebody."
"Well, him. Married a sister to me, so he's my brother-in-law, ain't he?"
"Certainly."
"Well, you're wrong then. He's only a half-brother-in-law, because she is
only a half-sister to me, her ma marrying my old man. Understand?"
I said I did and pulled up my rug as a signal that I was going to sleep and
the conversation was at an end.
"Anyhow, whatever he is, he's good enough for her."