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- We are at the district capital. We get out at the railway station. Wanda
- throws off her furs and places them over my arm, and goes to secure the
- When she returns she has completely changed.
- "Here is your ticket, Gregor," 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 am
- settled in my compartment and don't need you any longer. At each station you
- will hurry to my car and ask for my orders. Don't forget. And now give me my
- After I had helped her into them, humbly like a slave, she went to find an
- empty first-class coupe. I followed. Supporting herself on my shoulder, she
- got on and I wrapped her feet in bear-skins and placed them on the warming
- Then she nodded to me, and dismissed me. I slowly ascended a third- class
- carriage, which was filled with abominable tobacco-smoke that seemed like the
- fogs of Acheron at the entrance to Hades. I now had the leisure to muse about
- the riddle of human existence, and about its greatest riddle of all—woman.