“That devil on two sticks in there has handed mine out to me already,” Herr Settembrini said, and carried his hand to the side pocket of the inevitable pilot coat. “Interesting matter, I must confess, of literary and social import. It is about an encyclopaedic publication, to which a philanthropic institution has considered me worthy to contribute. Beautiful work, in short⁠—” Herr Settembrini interrupted himself. “But how about you?” he asked. “How are your affairs going? For instance, how far has the process of acclimatization gone? You have not been so long among us but that one may still put the question.”

“Thanks, Herr Settembrini. It still has its difficulties it seems. It very likely will have, up to the last day. My cousin told me when I came that many people never got used to it. But one gets used in time to not getting used.”

“A complicated process,” laughed the Italian. “An odd way of settling down in a place. But of course youth is capable of anything. It doesn’t get used to things, but it strikes roots.”