"Thank you." Paul says, relieved that he's finally getting a break. "I can give you directions to the town, though as I said, it's scarce but ash now. And if you would be willing to attest to my good character to Mr. Vanderbilt, I would greatly appreciate it. I would hate to lose an opportunity like the one he offered me.

"I'm not sure where I'm staying," he frowns at the realization. "I don't have any money after my misadventure. I don't suppose you'd know anyone who would be willing to take me in until I got myself settled, would you? I know I'm asking you for a lot, but these are exceptional circumstances, and I would be grateful for the help."

He enjoys a nice meal in peace, enjoying the small talk with Mr. Merriweather, and some of his old personality starts to reemerge. The events of a few days ago were seeming more and more like a bad dream, and it was hard, sitting in this normal cafe, having ordinary conversation, that such a thing had ever happened.

But one thing still angered at him, and he brings it up near the end of the meal. "I must say, I thought you'd find me crazy. My story is rather difficult to believe."