In reality 'Tilda Jane was in a state of semi-paralysis. She scarcely dared to move, to breathe. All her life had been spent in the quiet precincts of the asylum. She had scarcely been allowed to go to the small village in its vicinity, and when she had been allowed to visit it she had seen nothing as wonderful as this, for there was no railway there. It took her breath away to be whirled along at so rapid a rate. She wondered how the people dared to walk about. She wondered how she had ever had courage enough to step on board the flaming, roaring monster that had come rushing out of the woods as if it would devour the little station, the agent, herself, and her dog. But they had not been devoured, and the agent had guided her staggering footsteps toward the monster. If he had not done so, she would in her bewilderment have been left a prey for the pitiless Mrs. Minley.