After all, what we call speech is only the translation of thoughts into sounds.

These people have been thinking for ages with the same sort of brains as ours, and they've translated their thoughts into the same sounds.

What we call English they, I daresay, call Martian, and that's all there is in it that I can see." "Of course," laughed Zaidie.

"Wonderful until you know how, eh?
Like most things.

Still I must say that our friend here speaks English something like a phonograph, and if he'll excuse me saying so, which of course he will, he doesn't seem to have much more human nature about him." "I'm not quite so sure on that point," said Redgrave, "but----" "Oh, never mind about that now!" she interrupted, and then, turning towards the Martian, who had been listening intently as though he was trying to make sense out of what they had been saying, she went on speaking slowly and very plainly---- "Tell me, sir, if you please, do you know what 'angry' means?
Are you not angry with us for destroying your air-ships up there in the clouds, and the one that came down, and for shooting all those people of yours ?" The Martian looked at her with a little light in his big blue eyes, and two faint little spots of red just under them, and said: "Anger! Yes, I remember, that is what we called brain-heat.