not an Englishman, you say?" he asked, with a little natural
hesitation.

"No, not exactly what you call an Englishman," the stranger
replied, as if he didn't quite care for such clumsy attempts to
examine his antecedents. "As I tell you, I'm an Alien. But we
always spoke English at home," he added with an afterthought, as if
ready to vouchsafe all the other information that lay in his power.

"You can't be an American, I'm sure," Philip went on, unabashed,
his eagerness to solve the question at issue, once raised, getting
the better for the moment of both reserve and politeness.

"No, I'm certainly not an American," the stranger answered with a
gentle courtesy in his tone that made Philip feel ashamed of his
rudeness in questioning him.

"Nor a Colonist?" Philip asked once more, unable to take the hint.

"Nor a Colonist either," the Alien replied curtly. And then he
relapsed into a momentary silence which threw upon Philip the
difficult task of continuing the conversation.

The member of Her Britannic Majesty's Civil Service would have
given anything just that minute to say to him frankly, "Well, if
you're not an Englishman, and you're not an American, and you're
not a Colonist, and you ARE an Alien, and yet you talk English like
a native, and have always talked it, why, what in the name of
goodness do you want us to take you for?" But he restrained himself
with difficulty. There was something about the stranger that made