"Those are my wife's very words.

As for believing that the young man was ever in this house, I tell you that the story is a wicked lie.

Where should we have put him?
In the cellar with the hogsheads, or in the attic with the maid?
or in our own room?
Tell me where we could have put him! Or perhaps they will say that he slept on the ceiling, like the flies?
They will say anything, chattering, chattering, and coming here with their questions and their photographing machines, and their bicycles, and the souls of their dead! If you do not believe me, you can see the place where they say that he lay! I tell you there is not room for a cat in this house.

Believe me if you like!" "How can I not believe such a respectable person as you seem to be ?" inquired Ercole gravely.
"I thank you.

And since it happens that you are in the service of the young gentleman himself, I hope you will tell him that if he fancies he was in my house, he is mistaken." "Surely," said Ercole.
"Besides," exclaimed Paoluccio, "how could he know where he was?
Are not all inns on these roads alike?
He was in another, that is all.