At a wayside station an old woman hobbled to the window with a basket of grapes. Sonia felt in her purse and found it empty. After a moment's uneasy hesitation, she took a bunch with one hand and pointed to O'Rane with the other. The old woman nodded smilingly and tapped him gently on the shoulder. Still smiling he awoke, glanced round and spoke a few words in Italian: Sonia saw the old woman argue for a moment unavailingly, then shrug her shoulders and extend a skinny brown hand for the return of the grapes.
"No, no! They're mine! I want them!" Sonia cried.
The old woman gesticulated violently and touched O'Rane's arm for support against his countrywoman.
"Have you paid for them?" he asked.
Sonia glared at him through a mist of tears, bit her lip and threw the grapes back into the basket. O'Rane felt in his pocket and produced a lira, which he gave to the old woman as the train moved away from the station. She hurried painfully alongside with both hands full of the largest bunches, but he only shook his head and pulled the window up. The carriage was suddenly darkened as they entered a tunnel; on shooting into daylight the other side, he saw that Sonia's face was hidden and her shoulders heaving. O'Rane knocked out his pipe and composed himself for sleep.
Night had fallen before she spoke again.
"You must get me something to eat, David," she said. "I'm simply sick for want of food."
He yawned slightly and filled another pipe.
"I'm starving," she went on hysterically. "I've had nothing since breakfast."
"Nor have I, if it comes to that," he answered, breaking his long silence.