one o'clock in the morning
The dingy carriage in which we sat was vaguely illuminated by an oil lamp , the insufficient rays of which brought out effective high lights on the bald head of one audibly slumbering German on our side of the compartment , and on the heavy face of a stout Frenchwoman who sat opposite him , next to the old lady upon whom I was concentrating my attention . The latter , obviously an American , the two foreigners , and ourselves , were the sole occupants of the compartment ; and certainly in the appearance of none of her four fellow-passengers was there justification of the wide-awake intentness of the kind old eyes that now beamed on us through heavy , steel-rimmed spectacles . Pensively , as befitted the weary wanderer , I marvelled . How could she look so alive , so wide awake , so energetic , at one o'clock in the morning ? The bald-headed man slept on . The stout woman removed a shell comb from her back hair and composed herself for deeper slumber . Jessica presented to my lambent gaze a visage which besought unspoken sympathy , and mutely breathed a protest against travel in general and this phase of it in particular .