It’s a dream of course, one that I wish I could wake to in the present, but probably couldn’t. I imagine it takes place about a century ago in a gentler time when strangers were not so much in fear of each other, when passenger trains rocked rhythmically over the landscape, and forbidden pleasures were sweetly all the more so.

It’s a dream…but still…..

A train – the old-fashioned kind with small separate compartments, in which strangers sit intimately, facing one another on small pew-like benches – makes its way lazily through picturesque mountain passes veined with cascading streams and patchworked with tranquil forests, and verdant meadows. In the warmth...