The Great Train Robbery by Michael Crichton Page A

daughter,” Mr. Trent said, rising, and Mr. Pierce rose with him. “May I present Mr. Edward Pierce, my daughter Elizabeth.”
    “I confess I did not know you had a daughter,” Pierce said. He bowed deeply at the waist, took her hand, and seemed about to kiss it but hesitated. He appeared greatly flustered by the young woman’s arrival on the scene.
    “Miss Trent,” he said, releasing her hand awkwardly. “You take me quite by surprise.”
    “I cannot tell if that is to my advantage or no,” Elizabeth Trent replied, quickly taking a seat at the tea table and holding out her hand until a filled cup was put in it.
    “I assure you, it is wholly to your advantage,” Mr. Pierce replied. And he was reported to have colored deeply at this remark.
    Miss Trent fanned herself; Mr. Trent cleared his throat; Mrs. Trent, the perfect wife, picked up a tray of biscuits and said, “Will you try one of these, Mr. Pierce?”
    “With gratitude, Madam,” Mr. Pierce replied, and no one present doubted the sincerity of his words.
    “We are just discussing the ruins,” Mr. Trent said, in a somewhat overloud voice. “But prior to that Mr. Pierce was telling us of his travels abroad. He has recently returned from New York, in point of fact.”
    It was a cue; his daughter picked it up neatly. “Really?” she said, fanning herself briskly. “How utterly fascinating.”
    “I fear it is more so in the prospect than the telling,” Mr. Pierce replied, avoiding the glance of the young woman to such a degree that all observed his abashed reticence. He was clearly taken with her; and the final proof was that he addressed his remarks to Mrs. Trent. “It is a city like any other in the world, if truth be told, and chiefly distinguished by the lack of niceties which we residents of London take for granted.”
    “I have been informed,” Miss Trent ventured, still fanning, “that there are native predators in the region.”
    “I should be delighted if I could regale you,” Mr. Pierce said, “with endless adventures with the Indians—for so they are called, in America as in the East—but I fear I have no adventures to report. The wilderness of America does not begin until the Mississippi is crossed.”
    “Have you done so?” asked Mrs. Trent.
    “I have,” Mr. Pierce replied. “It is a vast river, many times more broad than the Thames, and it marks the boundary in America between civilization and savagery. Although lately they are constructing a railway across that vast colony”—he permitted himself the condescending reference to America, and Mr. Trent guffawed—“and I expect with the coming of the railway, the savagery will soon vanish.”
    “How quaint,” Miss Trent said, apparently unable to think of anything else to say.
    “What business took you to New York?” Mr. Trent asked.
    “If I may be so bold,” Mr. Pierce continued, ignoring the question, “and if the delicate ears of the ladies present shall not be offended, I shall give an example of the savagery which persists in the American lands, and the rude way of life which many persons there think nothing remarkable. Do you know of buffaloes?”
    “I have read of them,” said Mrs. Trent, her eyes flashing. According to some of the testimony of the servants, she was as taken with Mr. Pierce as was her stepdaughter, and her demeanor created a minor scandal within the Trent household. Mrs. Trent said, “These buffaloes are large beasts, like wild cows, and shaggy.”
    “Precisely so,” Mr. Pierce said. “The western portion of the American country is widely populated with these buffalo creatures, and many persons make their livelihood—such as it is—in hunting them.”
    “Have you been to California, where there is gold?” asked Miss Trent abruptly.
    “Yes,” Pierce said.
    “Let the man finish his tale,” Mrs. Trent said, rather too sharply.
    “Well,” Pierce said, “the buffalo hunters, as they are known, sometimes seek the flesh of the animals,