Sleeping the sleep of the just in his upper berth, the gentleman was awakened by a persistent tapping from below.
"Oh, Mr. Forsythe, are you awake?" asked the middle-aged lady in the berth below.
"I am now," he said groggily.
"It's frightfully cold down here, Mr Forsythe. I wonder if you would mind getting me a blanket."
"I've got a better idea, lady," he said. "Let's pretend we're married".
She giggled softly and said, "That sounds like a good idea".
"Good," said he, rolling over. "Now, go get your own damn blanket".