“Which do you think?”
“Well, I don’t quite know. You do look a little countrified, if you don’t mind my saying it; but you look a little citified, too--not much, but a little, although you can’t read, which is very curious, and you are not used to newspapers. Now my guess is that you live mainly in the country when you are at home, and not very much in the city. Is that right?”
“Yes, quite right.”
“Oh, good! Now I’ll take a fresh start.”
Then she wore herself to the bone, naming cities. No success. Next she wanted me to help her a little with some “pointers,” as she phrased it. Was my city large? Yes. Was it very large? Yes. Did they have mobiles there? No. Electric light? No. Railroads, hospitals, colleges, cops? No.
“Why, then, it’s not civilized! Where can that place be? Be good and tell me just one peculiarity of it--then maybe I can guess.”
“Well, then, just one; it has gates of pearl.”
“Oh, go along! That’s the New Jerusalem. It isn’t fair to joke. Never mind. I’ll guess it yet--it will come into my head pretty soon, just when I’m not expecting it. Oh, I’ve got an idea! Please talk a little in your own language--that’ll be a good pointer.” I accommodated her with a sentence or two. She shook her head despondently.
“No,” she said, “it doesn’t sound human. I mean, it doesn’t sound like any of these other foreigners. It’s pretty enough--it’s quite pretty, I think--but I’m sure I’ve not heard it before. Maybe if you were to pronounce your name---- What is your name, if you’ll be so good?”
“Adam.”