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Large birds, frightened by the locomotive, rose and flew off in the distance. No wild beast appeared on the plain. It was a desert in its vast nakedness.After a comfortable breakfast, served in the car, Mr. Fogg and his partners had just resumed whist, when a violent whistling was heard, and the train stopped. Passepartout put his head out of the door, but saw nothing to cause the delay; no station was in view.Aouda and Fix feared that Mr. Fogg might take it into his head to get out; but that gentleman contented himself with saying to his servant, "See what is the matter."Passepartout rushed out of the car. Thirty or forty passengers had already descended, amongst them Colonel Stamp Proctor.The train had stopped before a red signal which blocked the way. The engineer and conductor were talking excitedly with a signal-man, whom the station-master at Medicine Bow, the next stopping place, had sent on before. The passengers drew around and took part in the discussion, in which Colonel. They’d both laughed uncomfortably, and then avoided eye contact as they’d extracted themselves from the rather intimate embrace they’d found themselves in.Getting dressed had been somewhat awkward; there was little room inside the tiny cave, so they nearly couldn’t avoid accidentally bumping into each other as they attempted to don their respective armour. Both sets of leathers were still damp, making it rather like they were squirming into clingy second skins rather than armour. Not that he didn’t enjoy the view he had of the bard as she attempted to get her armour over her legs without accidentally exposing anything else.Making the decision to wait, instead of taking her up on her implicit offer was one of the most difficult things he’d ever done. She’d been there, half naked and gorgeous and grinding herself against his lap, and he had been stunned by just how badly he’d wanted to break his celibate streak right then and there. But he wanted so much more than just sex with this.
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