Per 
"C'mon Fritz, the train's about to leave!" Elizabeth spun around and grabbed Fritzgerald's hand, yanking the lanky man forward. The cold autumn wind bellowed in the early morning, biting at any skin left uncovered. It threatened to snatch away the bonnets of young maidens, blowing away at their intricately-embroidered skirts. Businessmen clutched their cases with their prized possessions, hoping that the thieving gales would not run off with them. Fritzgerald held his own hat down, watching Elizabeth's small back. Unlike the other ladies, she donned a loose-fitting overall, pulled over a light, patched-up shirt that displayed her skills as a seamstress.
Looking down at his own clothes, Fritzgerald realised how much the both of them really stuck out. The gaze of the confused passers-by made sense now; a tall man sporting a maroon trench coat (that he inherited from his father) being pulled along by a small blonde woman that looked like she just finished her shift at the farm. What a peculiar pair!
Elizabeth, who was panting by the time they were in the train cabin, had promptly collapsed into the seat of the first-class room. Fritzgerald slipped his coat off and onto the rack, before he started exploring the well-furbished interior of the cabin.
"Welcome! You must be Fritzgerald," said a man as he materialised on the couch beside Elizabeth, "and this must be your companion-"
"She's Liz, short for Elizabeth. Also, call me Fritz. Nice to finally meet you, Hudson," said Fritzgerald as he extended his hand.
Hudson smiled as he took Fritzgerald's hand in his own. A firm shake was exchanged between the two men.
"Well, nice to meet you too, Fritz."
Fritzgerald
So, I live in Wisconsin and way back during the 08 financial crisis our governor refused to accept federal money for a commuter train," they said, sipping on their wine.
