“Oh, of course it is!” she cried, sitting down on the
sofa. “How silly of me. I do apologize. In one ear and out
the other, that’s me, Mr.Weaver.”
“You know something?” Billy said. “Something that’s
really quite extraordinary about all this?”
“No, dear, I don’t.”
“Well, you see, both of these names—Mulholland and
Temple—I not only seem to remember each one of them
separately, so to speak, but somehow or other, in some
peculiar way, they both appear to be sort of connected
together as well. As though they were both famous for
the same sort of thing, if you see what I mean—like . . .
well . . . like Dempsey and Tunney, for example, or
Churchill and Roosevelt.”11