"Se secondt of sose two or sree sings—it is sat—he—Monsieur Fontenette —hass ask me—" Our hearts rose slowly into our throats—"Ze vun qvestion to vich sare can be only—se—vun—answeh."
At this we gulped our breath like schoolgirls and glowed. But the more show we made of hopeful and pleading smiles, the more those dear eyes, so seldom wet, filled up with tears.
"He sinks sare can two answehs be, and he like to heah which is se answeh I shall gif him, so he shall know if he shall come—now—aw if he shall come—neveh.
"O my sweet friend,"—to Mrs. Smith, down whose, face the salt drops stole unhindered—"sare iss nossing faw you to cry." She smiled heroically.
I could be silent no longer. "Senda, what have you answered?"
"I haf answered"—her lips quivered till she gnawed them cruelly—"I am sorry to take such a long time to tell you sat—but—I—I find sat—ve'y hahd—to tell." She smiled and gnawed her lips again. "I haf answered—
"Do you sink, my deah, sat siss is ri-ight to tell the we'y vords sat I haf toldt him?—yes?—vell—he tell me I shall se answeh make in vun vord—is sat not like a man?
"But I had to take six. And sey are sese: I cannot vhispeh across se ocean."