He went on first, and I saw him go into a large hotel while I remained on the other side of the street dragging along my fair Italian, who did not say a word, and followed by the porters with the luggage.
Paul came back at last, looking as dissatisfied as my companion.
"That is settled," he said, "and they will take us in; but there are only two bedrooms. You must settle it as you can."
I followed him, rather ashamed of going in with such a strange companion.
There were two bedrooms separated by a small sitting-room. I ordered a cold supper, and then I turned to the Italian with a perplexed look.
"We have only been able to get two rooms, so you must choose which you like."
She replied with her eternal Che mi fa? I thereupon took her little black wooden box, just like servants use, and took it into the room on the right, which I had chosen for her, ... for us. A bit of paper was fastened on to the box, on which was written, Mademoiselle Francesca Rondoli, Genoa.
"Your name is Francesca?" I asked, and she nodded her head, without replying.
"We shall have supper directly," I continued. "Meanwhile, I daresay you would like to arrange your dress a little?"
She answered with a mica, a word which she employed just as frequently as Che mi fa, but I went on: "It is always pleasant after a journey."