"You'll be a foreigner," she said.
"A foreigner!" I exclaimed; "why on earth should you think that?"
"You're using queer words," she replied.
"What words?" I demanded.
"Dame is the German for an old woman," said she.
This astonishing philological discovery might have amused me at another time, but at this moment it only showed me too clearly how her thoughts were running.
"Well," said I, "if it's German, I can only say it is the first word of that beastly language I've ever spoken!"
Again I was answered by a very ominous silence. It occurred to me very forcibly that the sooner I removed myself from this neighbourhood the better.
"Well," I said, "my bicycle is mended now, so I had better be off."
"You had that," she agreed.