In the rather cumbrous alphabet in use among the shades, the visitor spelled out in French:
“Son nom.”
“Is there something you object to about his name?”
A rap.
“Is it an assumed name?”
A very loud rap. Decidedly the spirit was indignant.
“Can you tell us his real name? His initials will do?”
“A. V.” spelled the unseen visitor.
“Is that right?” M. Auguste inquired with well-assumed curiosity.