It was a match which led
to a conversation between himself and a thin, drawling, overbearing
fellow with an eyeglass. Denry had hated this lordly creature all the
way from Dieppe. In presenting him with a match he felt that he was
somehow getting the better of him, for the match was precious in the
nocturnal solitude of the vibrating corridor. The mere fact that two
people are alone together and awake, divided from a sleeping or sleepy
population only by a row of closed, mysterious doors, will do much to
break down social barriers. The excellence of Denry's cigar also helped.
It atoned for the breadth of his accent.
He said to himself:
"I'll have a bit of a chat with this johnny."
And then he said aloud:
"Not a bad train this!"
"No!" the eyeglass agreed languidly. "Pity they give you such a beastly
dinner!"
And Denry agreed hastily that it was.
Soon they were chatting of places, and somehow it came out of Denry that
he was going to Montreux. The eyeglass professed its indifference to
Montreux in winter, but said the resorts above Montreux were all right,
such as Caux or Pridoux.
And Denry said:
"Well, of course, shouldn't think of stopping _in_ Montreux.
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