“What did he say when he went away; when he tied the rope around you?”
“Bye-bye.”
“What else?”
Diogenes’ intentions to be communicative were certainly all right, but not a word was intelligible. As he kept picking at his dress and pointing to it, I finally prompted:
“Did Tolly pin a paper to Di’s dress?”
“‘m––h’––m.”
“Bravo, Lucien!” applauded Rob. “They say you can induce a witness to admit anything.”
“What did Di do with the paper?” I continued.
The word he wanted evidently being beyond his vocabulary and speech, he made a rotary motion with his fist. The gesture conveyed nothing to our minds, but was instantly recognized and interpreted 110 by the landlady’s little girl, who said he meant a windmill such as she had sometimes made for him.