“I know a part of it.”
“My little name is—it is Vitoria.”
“V-i-t-t-o-r-i-a?” he spelled.
“Yes, but with one ‘t,’” the Lady said.
“Vitoria Urola,” he repeated.
She raised her even brows.
“Oh, yes; of course,” said she.
Somehow it struck him that its sound was scarcely familiar to her:
“Do I pronounce it badly?”
“No, no: you are quite correct.”