“Was it one behind the Panthéon?”
“That’s it.—Was there electric light?”
“No, I don’t think there was electric light. But I can find out for you.”
“How did you come to hear of it?”
“Through a German I know—Salle, Salla, or something.”
“What was the street?”
“The Rue Lhomond. I forget the number.”
“I’ll go and have a look at it after lunch.—What on earth possesses you to know so many Germans?” Tarr asked, sighing.
“Don’t you like Germans?—You’ve just been too intimate with one; that’s what it is.”