Strange to say I did not betray my nationality. I presume that by that time I had unconsciously acquired in a small degree the language of the race.
"You're from the East, I suppose?" queried mine hostess after half an hour, the first words I had heard her speak.
"Oh, sure, I'm from the East, the far East—in fact, the very Far East!" I replied.
"Boston?"
"You've said it," was my rejoinder. "Ever been to Boston?" I added.
"Yep, I was there I reckon fifteen fall. All I remember now was the railway depot. What do they call it, the South Union?"
"Sure, it's the South Union all right. Why, I was born only a couple of blocks from the South Union depot."
Miserable liar that I am, I have never been in Boston in my life.
"Fine city, Boston," interjected the male voice from below.
"The finest in the world, sir," I effused.