He asked the lady in the train <br />If he might smoke: she smiled consent. <br />So lighting his cigar and fain <br />To talk he puffed away content, <br />Reflecting: how delightful are <br /> Fair dame and fine cigar. <br /> <br />Then from his bulging wallet he <br />A photograph with pride displayed, <br />His charming wife and children three, <br />When suddenly he was dismayed <br />To hear her say: 'These notes you've got,-- <br /> I want the lot.' <br /> <br />He scarcely could believe his ears. <br />He laughed: 'The money isn't mine. <br />To pay it back would take me years, <br />And so politely I decline. <br />Madame, I think you speak in fun: <br /> Have you a gun?' <br /> <br />She smiled. 'No weapon have I got, <br />Only my virtue, but I swear <br />If you don't hand me out the lot <br />I'll rip my blouse, let down my hair, <br />Denounce you as a fiend accurst . . .' <br /> He told her: 'Do your worst.' <br /> <br />She did. Her silken gown she tore, <br />Let down her locks and pulled the cord <br />That stopped the train, and from the floor <br />She greeted engineer and guard: <br />'I fought and fought in vain,' she cried. <br /> 'Save me,--I'm terrified!' <br /> <br />The man was calm; he stood aloof. <br />Said he: 'Her game you understand; <br />But if you doubt, behold the proof <br />Of innocence is in my hand.' <br />And as they stared into the car <br />They saw his logic in a flash . . . <br />Aloft he held a lit cigar <br /> With two inches of ash.<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-pretty-lady/
