“Tell you what?” she asked.
“Why did he call you Diana?” Of enormous importance this: it had weighed on his heart for days, or weeks was it?
“Who?” asked Diana.
“Do you really not know?”
She said so many people had called her by her name: so few people called her by any one else’s. She mightn’t have answered to Caroline if he—whoever he was—had called her that. Then she added: “It’s quite a nice name, though, isn’t it? It’s a stately name.”
“Diana—do be nice to me,” he pleaded.
“Call me Caroline, and see.”
He called her Caroline, and she put out her hand and withdrew it.
“Diana,” he said, “don’t tease me.”
“If he—whoever he was—had called me Caroline you wouldn’t have minded?”