Une rencontre à Paris

"How does he protest?" Philippe wants to know. "He knocks things off the table. One by one." Marie demonstrates. "First my keys. Then my phone. Then my plants. He is very dramatic." Philippe nods his head. "Hemingway sits on my pillow. With his bottom. It's his revenge."

The waiter brings the bill. Finally. Marie looks at it. Two coffees cost eight euros. Two wines cost ten euros. The food costs ten euros. Total twenty-eight euros. Not bad for a long afternoon.

Philippe pays the waiter very slowly. He wanted to see how the waiter would react. But he didn't react. Philippe leaves a tip. The waiter slowly takes the money. They stand up and put on their jackets. "It was very nice," says Marie. She means it. The nervousness is gone. "Yes, wonderful. Sarah is a good matchmaker," Philippe agrees.

They walk toward the door together. Other people are waiting for their table. Parisian cafés are always busy. "Can I have your phone number?" asks Philippe. He takes out his phone. "Yes, of course," says Marie.