"She merely replied: 'Non capisco.'
"So she was an Italian! I felt an absurd inclination to laugh. As Paul did not understand a word of that language, I was obliged to act as his interpreter, so I said in Italian:
"'I asked you, Madame, whether you had any objection to tobacco smoke?'
"With an angry look, she replied, 'Che mi fa?'
"She had neither turned her head nor looked at me, and I really did not know whether to take this What does it matter to me, for an authorisation, a refusal, a real sign of indifference, or for a mere 'Leave me alone.'
"'Madame,' I replied, 'if you mind the smell of tobacco in the least—'
"She again said, 'mica,' in a tone of voice which seemed to mean, 'I wish to goodness you would leave me alone!' It was, however, a kind of permission, so I said to Paul:
"'You can smoke.'
"He looked at me in that curious sort of way that people have when they try to understand others who are talking in a strange language before them, and asked me:
"'What did you say to her?'