But the other passengers soon came trooping back into the observation room. Ira had told them nothing of Mallory's confession. In the first place, he was a man who had learned to keep a secret, and in the second place, he had forgotten that such persons as Mallory or his Marjorie existed. All the world was summed up in the fearsomely happy little spinster who had moved up into his section--the section which had begun its career draped in satin ribbons unwittingly prophetic. The communion of Mallory and Marjorie under the benison of reconciliation was invaded by the jokes of the other passengers, unconsciously ironic. Dr. Temple chaffed them amiably: "You two will have to take a back seat now. We've got a new bridal couple to amuse us." And Mrs. Temple welcomed them with: "You're only old married folks, like us." The Mallorys were used to the misunderstanding. But the misplaced witticisms gave them reassurance that their secret was safe yet a little while. At their dinner-table, however, and in the long evening that followed they were haunted by the fact that this was their last night on the train, and no minister to be expected. And now once more the Mallorys regained the star rôles in the esteem of the audience, for once more they quarreled at good-night-kissing time. Once more they required two sections, while Anne Gattle's berth was not even made up. It remained empty, like a deserted nest, for its occupant had flown South. CHAPTER XXXIII FRESH TROUBLE DAILY The following morning the daylight creeping into section number one found Ira and Anne staring at each other. Ira was tousled and Anne was unkempt, but her blush still gave her cheek at least an Indian summer glow. After a violent effort to reach the space between her shoulder blades, she was compelled to appeal to her new master to act as her new maid. "Oh, Mr. Lathrop," she stammered--"Ira," she corrected, "won't you please hook me up?" she pleaded. Ira beamed with a second childhood boyishness: "I'll do my best, my little ootsum-tootsums, it's the first time I ever tried it." "Oh, I'm so glad," Anne sighed, "it's the first time I ever was hooked up by a gentleman." He gurgled with joy and, forgetting the poverty of space, tried to reach her lips to kiss her. He almost broke her neck and bumped his head so hard that instead of saying, as he intended, "My darling," he said, "Oh, hell!" "Ira!" she gasped. But he, with all the proprietorship he had assumed, answered cheerily: "You'll have to get used to it, ducky darling. I could never learn not to swear." He proved the fact again and again by the remarks he addressed to certain refractory hooks. He apologized, but she felt more like apologizing for herself. "Oh, Ira," she said, "I'm so ashamed to have you see me like this--the first morning." "Well, you haven't got anything on me--I'm not shaved."