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He punched my ticket, then chatted cordially for a bit, making gestures like a windmill. I simply nodded from time to time to show him that I was interested.
When he had gone, an American woman in the compartment leaned forward and asked if I spoke German.
"No," I confessed.
"Then that explains," she said, "why you didn't bat an eyelid when he told you that you were on the wrong train."