Violette laughed heartily at the Englishman's egotism. "But I assure you, mademoiselle, these little Anglo-Saxon words would fill a dictionary with their shades of meaning. To take an example: the word 'go' has at least a hundred different meanings. Thus we say, 'the clock is going,' whereas it is standing still all the time. 'Go' may mean 'to die,' as in the phrase (he is going)--to succeed (the scheme did not go)--to fare (how goes it?)--to release (let go my hand)--it may mean a misfortune (here's a pretty go)--or an attempt (let's have a go at it)--or----" "Please, that's enough," cried Violette, "my poor head is in a whirl already. Let us conclude the whole matter by saying that with a dozen of these elastic Anglo-Saxon words of yours one may write a book and express every sentence in Macaulay, Milton and Shakespeare." "What a pretty wit," said Ridgeway, laughing. "The remarkable thing about the English language," he added, "is that all the words which we use most are not to be found in any dictionary." Violette opened her eyes in amazement. "It's a fact, I assure you, mademoiselle." "What a dreadful language," she replied, "I had no idea English was so difficult. How on earth is the ordinary person to learn it?" "One does not learn it," said Charley, "it just grows on one. If you try to learn English you never will. The professors of English who are paid to teach you don't know the words themselves, that is, the really useful ones, such as, 'awful,' 'jolly,' 'ripping,' 'rot,' 'blooming,' and thousands of others, and even in the very best French dictionaries you will find the English equivalent which is given, as something which has not the remotest connection with the word you have looked up." "Surely you are joking, monsieur," she replied. "Not in the least I assure you," he answered. "I see you have a Gasc's pocket dictionary, mademoiselle, which is one of the very best. Do me the favour to turn up the word 'cad.'" Violette did so and read out, "cad--conducteur d' omnibus." "There you are," he replied, "what did I tell you? Suppose an unfortunate and harmless Frenchman arriving for the first time in London, were to rely on the dictionary and address the conductor of the first 'bus he entered as a cad, by George, he would probably find himself the next moment rolling in the gutter with the conductor on the top of him, and his only excuse would be that he trusted to the dictionary." Violette looked at him with a mingled expression of amazement and doubt as to whether he was serious or not, and then glanced at her father who was snoring in the corner of the carriage, with a night-cap tied over his ears, while Madame Beaupaire was taking stock of Charley by the aid of a gold-mounted pair of lorgnettes attached to a long tortoise-shell handle.