“Oh, there is no use trying to fool me,” said the girl. “I know you are not a German—an Englishman perhaps, eh?”
Frank smiled at her.
“No; not an Englishman,” he replied.
“You are not French,” said the girl, looking up at him. “Even though you speak German without accent, I know you are not French, for I myself am French and I would detect it.”
“No; I am not French,” said Frank with another smile.
“Then what?” asked the girl.
“Well,” said Frank, “what would you say to an American.”
“An American!” exclaimed the girl. “Are you, really? I am glad, for I have wanted to meet an American.”
Suddenly Frank gave another start.
“Great Scott!” he thought. “Suppose this girl is fooling me? Suppose she has taken this means of finding out who we are?”