"I'll be careful. After all, I shouldn't want us to lose these children. They're so exactly the kind we need. Look how inquiring they are, how unafraid, how quick to adapt to any circumstances—"
Miss Burton's voice said, "Good gracious, children, what language are you using? Greek?"
They had been speaking too loud, they had been overheard. Palit and Manto stared at each other, and giggled coyly. Then, after a second to think, Palit said, "Onay, Issmay Urtonbay!"
"What?"
Frances shrilled triumphantly, "It isn't Greek, Miss Burton, it's Latin—Pig-Latin. She said, 'No, Miss Burton.'"
"Good heavens, what is Pig-Latin?"
"It's a kind of way of talking where you talk kind of backwards. Like, you don't say, Me, you say, Emay."
"You don't say, Yes, you say Esyay," added another little girl.
"You don't say, You, you say, Ouyay. You don't say—"
"All right, all right, I get the idea."