"You that have travelled far and wide, can you tell me who speaks all the languages of this world?"
"Who speaks all the languages of this world?" echoed Uros, lifting up his eyes, astonished, and then lowering them, feeling Milena's glances parch up his blood.
"Who can it be?" said he, puzzled.
He tried to think, but his poor head was muddled, and his heart was beating just as if it would burst. He had never been good at guessing, but now it was worse than ever.
"I've heard of people speaking three, four, and five languages, but
I've never heard of anyone speaking more than five."
"What! You've been in foreign countries," quoth she, smiling archly, and displaying her pearly teeth, "and still you cannot answer my question?"
"I cannot, indeed. There was a man who said he spoke twenty-five languages, but, of course, he was a humbug. First, there are not twenty-five languages in the world, and then he couldn't even speak Slav."
"Well, well; think over it till to-morrow."
"And then?"
"Perhaps you'll be able to guess."