When I got back to our building and was in the lobby, waiting for an elevator, a young woman with a dog who drew near me to also wait saw that I was reading Don Quixote, and said to me, after I’d greeted the animal, and had made a joke about how he could probably sense that I lived with two cats, because he was having difficulty keeping his nose away from me, “I’ve always wanted to read that, how is it?” To which I made some reply — that it was good, and that I was enjoying it, though I was not very far into it yet, because I was a slow reader.