Tickets, Please

On the train to Faversham the inspector wandered through, checking everyone's ticket. The woman in front of me was travelling with her mother and apparently they had boarded without a ticket. Then they discovered that they didn't quite have the right amount of money to buy one. They dipped into their bags, pulling out the odd notes and one-pound coins here, some loose change there, gradually amassing the money on the little table in front of them. And through all of this the inspector smiled politely and waited patiently.

I watched this with amazement. If it was Melbourne, they would most likely have been thrown to the ground, pummeled and tossed off the train.

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