The young lady addressed herself to me, without heeding this remark. "I suppose you feel quite at home here."
"Oh, he likes it; he has got used to the life!" exclaimed Mr. Ruck.
"I wish you'd teach Mr. Ruck," said his wife. "It seems as if he couldn't get used to anything."
"I'm used to you, my dear," the husband retorted, giving me a humorous look.
"He's intensely restless," continued Mrs. Ruck. "That's what made me want to come to a pension. I thought he would settle down more."
"I don't think I am used to you, after all," said her husband.
In view of a possible exchange of conjugal repartee I took refuge in conversation with Miss Ruck, who seemed perfectly able to play her part in any colloquy. I learned from this young lady that, with her parents, after visiting the British islands, she had been spending a month in Paris, and that she thought she should have died when she left that city. "I hung out of the carriage, when we left the hotel," said Miss Ruck, "I assure you I did. And mother did, too."
