if she could, but English.

John Harris, I admit, is a very good-looking man; but the way Photini
began to devour him with her eyes, astonished me. I was sitting next to
her at table; but she did not utter a word till the end of the meal.
Then she asked if he were married.

"No, he isn't," I replied, adding with a touch of malice, "I think he
would be glad of an introduction to you."

For something had occurred which made me suspect that she was the
richest heiress in Greece. During the meal, Dimitri came running in with
a newspaper, and looking far from happy.

"Hadgi Stavros has been defeated," he cried. "The troops have burnt his
camp and broken up his army, and pursued him to the marshes of
Marathon."

"It's a lie!" shouted Christodulos, his face red with anger. "The King
of the Mountains could take Athens if he wanted to, and cut the throat
of every man in it."

This, I thought, was strange language from an honest pastry cook, who
was also a lieutenant in the militia. I was still more surprised when I
turned to Photini, and saw that her face was wet with tears.

"You see, my dear Harris," I said, when he and Lobster and I were
talking the matter over in my bedroom, "you have soon got the
introduction you wanted."