"Rather," said Jenny.
They rattled off to Gatti's, and were soon sitting on red velvet, rulers of gayety.
"What's your name, Claude?" inquired Jenny.
"Raymond," he said.
"Oo-er! What a soppy name!"
The young man hesitated. He looked for a moment deep into Jenny's eyes: perceived, it may be, her honesty, and said:
"Well, as a matter of fact, my real name is Maurice—Maurice Avery."
"Oh, and he wasn't going to tell us," cried Jenny, clapping her hands. "We shall have to call him careful Willie."
"No, I say, really, do forgive me for being a silly ass."