The Sisters Rondoli, and Other Stories. Guy de Maupassant

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      "But Paul neither saw, nor looked at, nor smelled anything, for our fellow-traveller engrossed all his attention.

      "When we got to Cannes, as he wished to speak to me, he signed to me to get out again, and as soon as I had done so he took me by the arm.

      "'Do you know she is really charming. Just look at her eyes; and I never saw anything like her hair.'

      "'Don't excite yourself,' I replied. 'Tackle her, if you have any intentions that way. She does not look impregnable, I fancy, although she appears to be a little bit grumpy.'

      "'Why don't you speak to her?' he said. 'I don't know what to say, for I am always terribly stupid at first; I can never make advances to a woman in the street. I follow them, go round and round them, quite close to them, but I never know what to say at first. I only once tried to enter into conversation with a woman in that way. As I clearly saw that she was waiting for me to make overtures, and as I felt bound to say something, I stammered out, "I hope you are quite well, Madame?" She laughed in my face, and I made my escape.'

      "I promised Paul to do all I could to bring about a conversation, and when we had taken our places again, I politely asked our neighbour:

      "'Have you any objection to the smell of tobacco, Madame?'

      "She merely replied: 'Non capisco.'

      "So she was an Italian! I felt an absurd inclination to laugh. As Paul did not understand a word of that language, I was obliged to act as his interpreter, so I said in Italian:

      "'I asked you, Madame, whether you had any objection to tobacco smoke?'

      "With an angry look, she replied, 'Che mi fa?'

      "She had neither turned her head nor looked at me, and I really did not know whether to take this What does it matter to me, for an authorisation, a refusal, a real sign of indifference, or for a mere 'Leave me alone.'

      "'Madame,' I replied, 'if you mind the smell of tobacco in the least—'

      "She again said, 'mica,' in a tone of voice which seemed to mean, 'I wish to goodness you would leave me alone!' It was, however, a kind of permission, so I said to Paul:

      "'You can smoke.'

      "He looked at me in that curious sort of way that people have when they try to understand others who are talking in a strange language before them, and asked me:

      "'What did you say to her?'

      "'I asked if we might smoke, and she said we might do whatever we liked.'

      "Whereupon I lighted my cigar.

      "'Did not she say anything more?'

      "'If you had counted her words you would have noticed that she used exactly six, two of which gave me to understand that she knew no French, so four remained, and a lot cannot be said in four words.'

      "Paul seemed quite unhappy, disappointed, and at sea.

      "But suddenly the Italian asked me, in that tone of discontent which seemed habitual to her, 'Do you know at what time we shall get to Genoa?'

      "'At eleven o'clock,' I replied. Then after a moment I went on:

      "'My friend and I are also going to Genoa, and if we can be of any service to you, we shall be very happy. As she did not answer, I insisted: 'You are alone and if we can be of service … ' But she interrupted with such a 'mica,' that I did not venture on another word.

      "'What did she say?' Paul asked.

      "'She said that she thought you were charming.'

      "But he was in no humour for joking, and begged me, dryly, not to make fun of him, so I translated her question and my polite offer, which had been so pertly rejected.

      "Then he became as agitated as a squirrel in a cage.

      "'If we only knew,' he said, 'what hotel she was going to, we would go to the same. Try and find out, so as to have another opportunity for making her speak.'

      "It was not particularly easy, and I did not know what pretext to invent, anxious as I was to make the acquaintance of this unapproachable person.

      "We passed Nice, Monaco, Mentone, and the train stopped at the frontier for the examination of luggage.

      "Although I hate those badly brought-up people who breakfast and dine in railway-carriages, I went and bought a quantity of good things to make one last attack on her by their means. I felt sure that this girl must, ordinarily, be by no means inaccessible. Something had put her out and made her irritable, but very little would suffice, a mere word or some agreeable offer, make her unbend, to decide her and overcome her.

      "We started again, and we three were still alone. I spread my eatables out on the seat. I cut up the fowl, put the slices of ham neatly on a piece of paper, and then carefully laid out our dessert, the strawberries, plums, cherries, and cakes, close to the girl.

      "When she saw that we were going to eat she took a piece of chocolate and two small rolls out of her pocket and began to eat them with her beautiful sharp teeth.

      "'Ask her to have some of ours,' Paul said in a whisper.

      "'That is exactly what I want to do, but it is rather a difficult matter.'

      "As she, however, glanced from time to time at our provisions, I felt sure that she would still be hungry when she had finished what she had. So as soon as her frugal meal was over, I said to her:

      "'It would be very kind of you if you would take some of this fruit.'

      "Again she said 'mica,' but less crossly than before.

      "'Well, then,' I said, 'may I offer you a little wine? I see you have not drunk anything. It is Italian wine, and as we are now in your own country, we should be very pleased to see such a pretty Italian mouth accept the offer of its French neighbours.'

      "She shook her head slightly, evidently wishing to refuse, but very desirous of accepting, and her 'mica' this time was almost polite. I took the bottle, which was covered with straw in the Italian fashion, and filling the glass I offered it to her.

      "'Please drink it,' I said, 'to bid us welcome to your country.'

      "She took the glass with her usual look, and emptied it at a draught, like a woman tormented with thirst, and then gave it back to me without even saying 'Thank you.'

      "Then I offered her the cherries. 'Please take some,' I said; 'we shall be so pleased if you will.'

      "Out of her corner she looked at all the fruit spread out beside her, and said so rapidly that I could scarcely follow her: 'A me non piacciono ne le ciliegie ne le susine; amo soltano le fragole.'

      "'What does she say?' Paul asked.

      "'That she does not care for cherries or plums, but only for strawberries.'

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