Her purse had fallen onto the ground.
I told her so.
Although she seemed to be looking straight at me, she didn't react and just kept on sucking on the end of her cigarette.
I said it again.
Her eyes lit up. "Are you talking to me?"
"Yes," I answered. "Your purse has fallen off the table."
She thanked me profusely and apologised for not answering faster. "It's very rare that people say anything at all to you in the streets," she said. "I'm not used to it. It should happen more often, shouldn't it?"
I smiled.
"My husband doesn't say much to me either," she continued, as she stubbed her cigarette out nervously and nodded in the direction of a shape sitting opposite her reading the newspaper, unaware that his wife was talking to someone else.
