They seem both to have been extraordinarily puzzled at one another--as such people occasionally are.

They were as two persons, both intelligent and interested, entirely divided by the absence of any common language, or even of symbols.

Words that each used meant different things to the other.

(It strikes me sometimes that the curse of Babel was a deeper thing than appears on the surface.) The Major and Gertie, all this while, were in clover.

The doctor had no conception of what six hours' manual work could or could not do, and, in return for these hours, he made over to the two a small disused gardener's cottage at the end of his grounds, some bedding, their meals, and a shilling the day.