You spoke in so
low a tone that I cannot interpret what you have just said, but should
you receive a second inspiration later, I shall doubtless be able to
interpret it for you. I have been singularly gifted in this respect--more
so, perhaps, than any other interpreter in Erewhon."
My father mentally vowed that no second inspiration should be vouchsafed
to him, but presently remembering how anxious he was for information on
the points touched upon at the beginning of this chapter, and seeing that
fortune had sent him the kind of man who would be able to enlighten him,
he changed his mind; nothing, he reflected, would be more likely to make
the stranger talk freely with him, than the affording him an opportunity
for showing off his skill as an interpreter.
Something, therefore, he would say, but what? No one could talk more
freely when the train of his thoughts, or the conversation of others,
gave him his cue, but when told to say an unattached "something," he
could not even think of "How do you do this morning? it is a very fine
day;" and the more he cudgelled his brains for "something," the more they
gave no response. He could not even converse further with the stranger
beyond plain "yes" and "no"; so he went on with his supper, and in
thinking of what he was eating and drinking for the moment forgot to
ransack his brain.
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