"Oh," said Charley, who was warming up and becoming very communicative, "shy is one of our wonderful English words, like 'box,' and 'shot' and 'go' and 'make.' They may mean anything and everything."
"But, monsieur, how is one to know what a word means if it may imply anything and everything?"
"That's the beauty of our language. It's a perfect joy. It's so tremendously expressive. If you can't get at the meaning by the context you have to guess it by the tone of the voice, as one does when speaking Chinese. Thus, if you were to say to me 'You're a nice young man,' it would mean that I was not a nice young man. Whereas if you were to say 'you are a nice young man' you imply the exact opposite, namely that I am nice."
"Are you fishing for compliments?" asked Violette, laughing.
"Not exactly, but I feel sure you will say that my last illustration was correct in every respect."
"Oh, you men, you are as vain as peacocks, you think that every girl you meet must at once fall over head and ears in love with you."
"And is not that a very delightful frame of mind to be in?" asked Charley, wondering what she would say next.
Violette laughed heartily at the Englishman's egotism.
"But I assure you, mademoiselle, these little Anglo-Saxon words would fill a dictionary with their shades of meaning. To take an example: the word 'go' has at least a hundred different meanings. Thus we say, 'the clock is going,' whereas it is standing still all the time. 'Go' may mean 'to die,' as in the phrase (he is going)—to succeed (the scheme did not go)—to fare (how goes it?)—to release (let go my hand)—it may mean a misfortune (here's a pretty go)—or an attempt (let's have a go at it)—or——"