"George," she murmured involuntarily.
"What!!"
She looked at her father, abashed, confused.
"How absurd of me," she said. "I don't know why I should have thought of that name, George; or why I should have said it out loud--that way--I really don't----"
"Who do you know named George?"
"N-nobody in particular that I can think of----"
"Sybilla! Be honest!"
"Really, I don't; I am always honest."
He knew she was truthful, always; but he said:
"Then why the devil did you look--er--so, so moonily at me and call me George?"