“Yes, and that’s enough,” said the Canuck. “Aller!” he added in perfect Canadian.

“ Je ne comprend pas ,” said the lady.

“Go to the devil then!” said the Canadian in perfect Portuguese.

The lady went somewhere, but whether to the proper destination I do not know.

“I wonder how much they charge to get out,” wondered the Canadian.

Along about the middle of the show our own usher popped up before me and held out her right hand, at the same time exhibiting both teeth in an ingratiating smile. I shook the proffered hand. She withdrew her teeth.

“Non, non, non, non,” she said.

I asked her what she voulez-voued. She was coy.