The American was talking again. He was asking me something. ‘I’m sorry,’ I murmured. ‘What did you say?’
‘ I asked what you were during the war.’
‘I was a flier.’
‘Are you still flying?’
‘No. This leg—’
‘What are you doing in Milan then?’
‘I represent a firm of machine tool manufacturers.’
‘When did you last have a holiday?’
‘A holiday? I don’t know. I was looking around for a job for a long time and then I joined this firm. That was about fourteen months ago.’
‘And you haven’t had a holiday?’