«Oh, hold your tongue!» said Sturt, contemptuously, coming back and taking the seat immediately opposite Barker. He stretched his long legs across the carriage so as to circumscribe as far as possible the sphere of action for Barker’s legs, drew a swollen pocket-book out, and consulted it to a whistled accompaniment of Gounod's «Nazareth».
«You don't know the rules about railway-carriage windows,» said Barker, savagely. «I don't ask or expect decent manners from you; but there are rules, and I'll see that those rules are carried out.»
«Go to the devil» said Sturt, resuming his Gounod and note-book.
«The first person who enters a carriage has the right of control over the window of that carriage, and I insist that the window over there shall be put up,» said Barker.
Sturt put down his pocket-book with an air of tired resignation. «Since you must go on jabbering, I may as well tell you what the rule really is. It may save you from making a fool of yourself in the future. As you are sitting in the corner seat on the near-side facing the engine, you have a right over the near side window, and I haven't interfered with it. You can put that window up or down. You can put it in your pocket. You can eat it if you like. That's a matter between you and the company, and I don't care two straws about it anyway. But over the far-side window you have no more right than the man in the moon. I've put that window down, and it's going to stop down, and you can insist till you're sick and it won't make any difference.»
