'Oh, of course! Nothing could be easier than to tell me an untruth!'
This certainly looked like the feminine retort-triumphant, and Margaret delivered it in a cutting tone.
'That is precisely what you seem to imply that I did,' Logotheti objected. 'But if what I told you was untrue your argument goes to pieces. There was no Tartar lesson, there was no Tartar teacher, and it was all a fabrication of my own!'
'Just what I think!' returned Margaret. 'It was not Tartar you spoke, and there was no teacher!'
'You have me there,' answered the Greek mildly, 'unless you would like me to produce my young friend and talk to him before you in the presence of witnesses who know his language.'
'I wish you would! I should like to see "him"! I should like to see the colour of "his" eyes and hair!'
'Black as ink,' said Logotheti. [{91}]
'And you'll tell me that "his" complexion is black too, no doubt!'
'Not at all; a sort of creamy complexion, I think, though I did not pay much attention to his skin. He is a smallish chap, good-looking, with hands and feet like a woman's. I noticed that. As I told you, a doubt occurred to me at once, and I will not positively swear that it is not a girl after all. He, or she, is really a Tartar from Central Asia, and I know enough of the language to say what was necessary.'
'Necessary!'