“I would say that so do you, except that I am convinced you are not French even though your accent is perfect.”
Zena thought with a little smile that this, if nothing else, would please her father who was always so insistent that she should speak with a Parisian accent.
“Are you prepared to guess the country I belong to?” she asked.
The gentleman shook his head.
“No, because I have been trying to puzzle it out for myself ever since I saw you and have failed dismally to find an answer.”
“Perhaps I should leave you guessing,” Zena said. “A puzzle is no longer interesting once one has finished it.”
She thought as she spoke that it was a rather clever remark, but her companion leaned forward in his seat to say,
“This puzzle will not be finished when you tell me where you were born. Ther
