A few blouse- clad idlers sat at a table, smoking and drinking sugar and water, and discussing the news of the day with their host, a surly-looking fellow, who, whatever his inn might be, was himself a common type of Frenchman.
"Now ?" demanded he as I approached.

"Monsieur," said I in English, "I desire a bed and some food." "Speak French," said he in English.

"I speak no French," replied I in French.

Whereupon one of the idlers was summoned as interpreter.

I knew French enough to hear in the words that passed between him and mine host the two expressions "spy" and "money," and I wished I had never come into the place.