Monsieur X*** directs a frightful little theatre in Paris which decency forbids me to name. This theatre and its director both possess the “evil eye”. Anyone who shakes the director’s hand usually dies within the year, and anyone entering the theatre is invariably laid low by violent diarrhoea.

At a house which I visited recently, our host, who is simple and sceptical enough to doubt the influence of the evil eye, decided to tease one of his guests, unlike himself a man of great intelligence and a firm believer, by playing a trick on him. Each guest’s name was written in the usual way on a slip of paper placed in front of his napkin. He arranged for the slip at his unsuspecting victim’s place to be turned back to front, and showed him to his seat, saying “Here’s your place”. The poor chap sat down without a qualm, unfolded his napkin, mechanically turned over the slip of paper which he thought bore his name, and discovered instead that of Monsieur X***, written on a ticket from the evil eye theatre. He recoiled in horror, intelligent man that he was, and there and then, without any warning, was violently sick … and before dinner, too!