"Oh," said Jacques, quite relieved. He knew the feeling. He had once walked to the opposite end of Paris while debating over slavery with a Feuillant friend and, once they'd reached the friend's apartment, Jacques realized he had no idea where he was, or how he had gotten there.
"Never mind, citoyenne. It happens." Jacques tried to think of something else to say. "It... is a compliment to your conversational skills that we got so... absorbed we couldn't find the bookshop." He racked his brains and lamented his inability to come up with relevant small talk. "Oh, is that the building?"