"Are you in the clothing business?" the stranger asked.
"I got a sort of a store," Sam replied; "clothing and cloaks, and suits also. A dry-goods store in Cyprus."
"In Cyprus?" Sam's seatmate cried. "You don't tell me? I'm going down to Cyprus too."
"My fall buying is through," Sam said.
"I'm not selling goods this trip," the stranger replied. "I'm on a vacation."
"A vacation!" Sam murmured. "In Cyprus! That's a medeena for a vacation."
"There are worse places than Cyprus, my friend," said Sam's new-found acquaintance; and thereat began a conversation that lasted until the train finally drew into Cyprus.
"Would you mind telling me what is your name, please?" Sam asked as they prepared to leave the car.
"Certainly," the stranger said, handing his card to Sam.
"Kirschner!" Sam exclaimed, looking at the card. "Kirschner, von unsere Leute?"