“Have you a nickname?” he asked curiously.
“Yes,” she said, startled. “Why?”
“What is it?”
“Bobby. Again, why?”
He laughed.
“Because I was going to give you one if you hadn’t. I was going to name you Till Eulenspiegel. But Bobby will do very well. I shall call you that, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind. But you may regret it.—Who was Till Eulenspiegel?” she asked.
“A celebrated scamp.—Why should I regret it?”
“We’ll have to number our questions and answers—we’re getting all mixed up. Bobby is a celebrated scamp, too. You haven’t heard of her? When I’m Elva I’m on my very best behaviour.”
“Then come as Bobby, by all means!” he said.