“Sounds like the Lucy Stone League. Continue to call yourself Gita Carteret, by all means. We’re used to it.”
“But wouldn’t you be willing to take the name of Carteret?”
“I would not!” exploded Bylant. “I may be an ass but I’m not an emasculated ass. And Bylant, I’d have you know, is as old and honorable a name as Carteret. It came over from Holland before a Carteret was ever heard of——”
“Oh, of course! I understand,” said Gita hurriedly. “A few months ago—but I do now. But wouldn’t you be willing to call yourself Bylant-Carteret?”
“I would not!”
“Well, that’s that. At least I’ve done my duty and asked you. And you don’t mind if I remain Gita Carteret?”
“Don’t care a hang.”
“I never saw you cross before. Do you think we’ll squabble? It would be rather exciting.”
“Not in our sort of—alliance. Nor have I any intention of doing anything so undignified. I’m sorry I let go, but it hits a man on the raw to be asked to give up his name.”
“Sorry. Let’s forget it. Suppose we go over to the Boardwalk and look at the lights. We might take in a movie.”