The sentence was cut short by a sudden roar. The train had entered a tunnel, and the speakers made pause, seeing each other vaguely in the dim light, and when they emerged into the cold April twilight Frank told the story of Triss and Berkins, Mr. Brookes struggling with the door, and the girls rushing screaming from their hiding-place; and Frank's imitation of Berkin's pomposity amused Lizzie, and she laughed till she cried. He continued till the joke was worn bare; then, fearing he had been talking too much of himself, he said: “Now, I have been very candid with you, tell me about yourself.” “There is nothing to tell; I think I have told you all.” Then she said, slipping, as she spoke, into minute confidences: “When I left the 'Gaiety' I went for a few days to the Exhibition, but _he_ wanted to leave London, so I applied to the firm to remove me to Liverpool (not Liverpool Street; the girl--I suppose it was Miss Clarke, for I wrote to her--made a mistake, or you misunderstood her). We remained in Liverpool a year, and then we came back to London, and I went to the 'Criterion,' but I couldn't stop there long; he was so awfully jealous of me; he used to catechise me every evening--who had I spoken to? How long I had spoken to this man? Once I slapped a man's face in fun because he squeezed my hand when I handed him the change across the counter. There was such a row about it. I don't know how _he_ heard of it. I think he must have got some one to watch me. I often suspected the porter--the bigger one of the two; but you don't know the 'Criterion.' You used to go to the 'Gaiety.'” “Perhaps he saw you himself. I suppose he used to come to the bar?” “No, not unless--no, not very often. He banged me about.” “Banged you about, the brute! Good heavens! How could you like a man who would strike a woman? Who was he? Was he a gentleman--I mean, was he supposed to be a gentleman? Of course he wasn't really a gentleman, or he wouldn't have struck you.” “He was in a passion, he was very sorry for it afterwards. Then I left the firm and went to live in lodgings; he allowed me so much a week.” “He was a man of some means?” “No, but it didn't cost him much, he knew the people. We were going to be married, but he got ill, and we thought we had better wait; and I went to the 'Gaiety' again. I was a fool, of course, to think so much about him, for I had plenty of chances. One man who used to lunch there three times a week wanted me to marry him, and take me right away. I think he was in the printing business--a man who was making good money; but I could not give Harry up.” “Harry is his name, then?”