“I said 'don't be silly,'” repeated the calm young man.
“Do you know that you're being very rude?” she asked.
He seemed interested and surprised at this novel view of his conduct.
“Of course,” she went on carefully smoothing her dress and avoiding his eye, “I know you think I am silly and that I've got a most comic name.”
“I have never said your name was comic,” he replied coldly; “I would not take so great a liberty.”
“You said it was 'weird' which was worse,” she claimed.
“I may have said it was 'weird,”' he admitted, “but that's rather different to saying it was 'comic.' There is dignity in weird things. For example, nightmares aren't comic but they're weird.”
“Thank you,” she said pointedly.
“Not that I mean your name is anything approaching a nightmare.” He made this concession with a most magnificent sweep of hand as though he were a king conceding her the right to remain covered in his presence. “I think that Belinda Ann—”
“Belinda Mary,” she corrected.