I answered in my bad Spanish: "No, Ingles. Y tu?"
"Italiano"
As we went out, he stepped across the room and gripped my hand very hard. Queer, the affection you can feel for a stranger! It was as though his spirit and mine had momentarily suceeded in bridging the gulf of language and tradition and meeting in utter intimacy.
I hoped he liked me as well as I liked him. But I also knew that to retain my first impression of him, I must not see him again; and needless to say, I never did see him again. One was always making contacts of that kind in Spain. [...]