"Like 'Pisgah'?"
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know. Perhaps it's 'Mizpah,' or 'Ichabod,' or 'Habakkuk.' I'm sure there's a word you put on rings—I expect they'd know at the shop."
"But I don't want what they know at shops. It must be something quite private and special."
"But the shop has got to know about it when I tell them. And I don't like telling strange men in shops private and special things about ourselves. I love you, Celia, but—"
"That would be a lovely thing," she said, clasping her hands eagerly.
"What?"
"'I love you, Celia.'"
I looked at her aghast.
"Do you want me to order that in cold blood from the shopman?"