“You told her your real name, didn’t you?” “What?” Jean’s eyes grew wide, and then he scowled. “Is that a guess?” “I’m not much of a lip-reader, but the last thing she said to you had one syllable, not two.” “Oh,” sighed Jean. “Well, aren’t you the clever little bastard.” “Yes on all three counts, actually.” “I did, and I’m not sorry—” “Gods, I’m not angry, Jean. I’m just showing off.”
