“He has the most beautiful voice I ever heard,” Alice replied.
“I know him. He is an old friend of mine. I'm going behind the scenes to congratulate him personally.”
“Did you meet him in Italy?”
“No—in Fernborough, Massachusetts.”
“Why, Quincy, what do you mean? There were no Italians in Fernborough.”
“He is not an Italian. He's a Yankee. Look at his name.”
“That's Italian surely.”
“It's only his Yankee name transposed. Aren't you good on anagrams?”
“Certainly, I'm not. Please tell me.”
“Do you remember a young man in Fernborough with consumption whom I sent to a sanatorium in New York?”