"That depends on who's in them."

He was forced to admit the logic of that. Skirts might be silly, but
she wasn't. She interested him, this strange creature that talked
back, not in the least like Miss Redwood. The jade! Jerry did not know
their tricks as I did. She was reading him, I haven't a doubt, like an
open book. It was a pity. I hadn't yet prepared Jerry for this
encounter. The girl had moved two or three paces away when she paused
again.

"What's your name?" she asked suddenly.

"Jerry."

"That's a nice name. I think it's like you."

"How--like me?"

"Oh, I don't know--boyish and rather jolly, in spite of being
Jeremiah. It _is_ Jeremiah, isn't it?"

He nodded.

"I was sure of it. It was Jeremiah who wanted to throw me over the
wall, but it was Jerry who didn't. Which are you really? If you're
Jerry I'm not afraid of you in the least. But if you're Jeremiah, I
must go at once."

He smiled at her.