"He says you're a sight for sore eyes," Hall translated.
"Then tell him to look at my face."
"The woman thanks you," Hall said.
Jerry pointed to the bar. "There's the little Dutchman," she said.
Androtten was standing alone at the bar, a wine glass in his hand.
"I'll call him over. He's a lonesome bastard too."
The Dutchman was delighted to see Hall. "This is indeed a damn surprise," he said. "Join you at the table? Happy as hell to join you, Mr. Hall. Ah, the nurse of the great doctor. Tell me, nurse, do you think the doctor could cure my rheumatism?" This, he made clear by his gesture of holding his side in mock agony and groaning, was meant to be a joke.
Hall translated the joke for Pepe.
The driver nodded. "I understood most of it," he admitted. "One doesn't drive American tourists for a century and learn nothing."
"Aha," Hall said. "Pepe knows a few words of English, it develops."