“The Boulevard des Italiens.”
“We passed that a long time ago!”
“Would you mind telling my husband?”
“Your husband! Where is he?”
“On the top of the bus.”
“On the top! There hasn't been anybody there for a long time.”
She started, terrified.
“What? That's impossible! He got on with me. Look well! He must be there.”
The conductor was becoming uncivil:
“Come on, little one, you've talked enough! You can find ten men for every one that you lose. Now run along. You'll find another one somewhere.”