“Isn’t it yours? You bought it, didn’t you? Then it was written by your relative, you know.”
“I said my namesake.”
“So you did. And now I’m going to ask you an impudent question. You will not look wicked again, will you?”
“I won’t promise. That depends entirely on the question.”
“It is easily answered.”
“I’m waiting.”
“What is your Christian name, Mr. Buel?”
“My Christian name?” he repeated, uncomfortably.
“Yes, what is it?”
“Why do you wish to know?”