"You mean," I said, "that I haven't happened to say 'I guess,' and that I
don't, perhaps, talk through my nose? But we don't all do that. We do all
sorts of things."

He stuck to it. "You talk like us."

"Well, I'm sure I don't mean to talk like anybody!" I sighed.

This diverted him, and brought us closer.

"And see here," I continued, "I knew you were English, although you've
not dropped a single h."

"Oh, but," he said, "dropping h's--that's--that's not--"

"I know it isn't," I said. "Neither is talking through your nose. And we
don't all say 'Amurrican.'"

But he stuck to it. "All the same there is an American voice. The
train yesterday was full of it. Officers. Unmistakable." And he shook his
head.

After this we got on better than ever; and as he went his way, he gave me
some advice about the hotel. I should do well to avoid the reading room.
The hotel went in rather too much for being old-fashioned. Ran it into
the ground. Tiresome. Good-night.

Presently I shall disclose more plainly to you the moral of my Salisbury
anecdote.