He entered a tobacconist's shop, assuring me that this was a lodging-house.
A young Italian girl stood behind the counter, as if waiting for an order; so I asked to see the proprietor of the place.
She immediately went out of the shop and gave a shout, and a minute after a matronly woman entered, about fifty years of age, and who, from her close resemblance to the dark-eyed girl, was probably her mother.
Was she the proprietor of this establishment?
She was.
Did she keep a boarding-house?
She did--for well-behaved people.
She had no husband?
The Blessed Virgin had taken him home.
And a man did not conduct her business?
Certainly not.

She was a capable woman, able to attend to the wants of her guests, while her daughter was a universal favourite because of politeness to customers and the good tobacco she sold.

Should she have the pleasure of selling me some?
I did not reply except by a smile, which this Italian maiden evidently took for an assent to her mother's proposition, and accordingly proceeded to make some cigarettes for me.

Meanwhile her mother assured me that her house was convenient and comfortable, and asked permission to show me some vacant rooms, and give me an idea of the attendance I should receive.
I accordingly followed her, and found rooms which, while not altogether according to my English tastes, did her credit.
"Have you many lodgers now ?" I asked.
"Four," was the reply.
"Gentlemen ?" "All gentlemen." "Might I ask their nationality ?" I said.
"They are all Italian," was the reply.
My hopes had risen high, but they were by this answer dashed to the ground.

Then I remembered that Simon had described Kaffar as being in a room with a man.