“But she called you Richard, as if you were a butler or a chauffeur, and she presumed that you would know her as ‘Jerry.’”
“Oh,” Mr. Richard laughed, “didn’t you know that my first name is Richard, too? Don’t blame me!” he spread his hands out and shook his head. “Richard Richard, that’s the label they gave me.”
“Why, no one would ever——”
“Oh, yes, they would. Look at Jerome K. Jerome.”
“Yes, that’s so.”
“And Peter Peter,” Geraldine helped.
“What!” the mother turned on her. She knew of no Peter Peter.
“The pumpkin eater,” explained Geraldine as she thoughtfully threaded a needle.
Richard Richard bubbled with mirth. He had a hearty out-of-doors laugh. “Great character, old Peter Peter. He and I have many qualities in common. He was always hard up. So was his cousin, Tom Tom.”
“Eh?” Mrs. Wells’ mind could not catch up quickly with the jest. “Tom Tom?”