She tried to pull her hand away. “Stewart says the Eahrohhs are very sensitive about how their names are pronounced.”

“Is Stewart the guy on the phone, the one you’re engaged to?”

“Yes.”

“Did he tell you to talk to Okee like he’s deaf and feebleminded, too? ‘Have eat? Fish? Rice?’ ”

“Mr. Ohghhi…” She tried to look at her hand, but Hutchins folded it firmly shut.

“Okee speaks better English than Charmaine. He’s only talking that ridiculous pidgin to you because you’ve got him intimidated with all this correct pronunciation stuff. He’s afraid if he talks to you, he’ll mispronounce something, so he doesn’t say anything. If you’d quit worrying about how to pronounce his name, and just talk to him…”

“Your order, sigñor?” the waiter said. “Go ahead,” Hutchins said. “Ask him what he’d like to have for dinner.” His hand was still firmly closed over hers. The waiter tapped the stylus on his hand terminal. “Mr Ohghhi…,” she said.

“Okeefenokee,” Hutchins said. “Like the swamp.” “Okeefenokee,” she said timidly, “what would you like to have for dinner?”

Mr. Ohghhifoehnnahigrheeh’s smile straightened out into an expression Chris hadn’t seen before. His cheek knobs seemed to grow more orange, and two lines formed above his nose. “I’ll have the sushi and spaghetti,” he said. “And you do have any sake? Majori? Good. I’d like a bottle. And three cups.” Chris stared at him.

“And you, sigñorina?” the waiter said.

“She’ll have the sushi and spaghetti,” Hutchins said.

“ ’Scuse me,” Charmaine said, brushing past the waiter. She was wearing another hapi coat, made of a glittery fabric you could see through. “They told me you guys were here,” she said, “and I would’ve come right over only on the way down here some guy pinched me. I had to do one of my fans all over again.”

“We’ll all have the sushi and spaghetti,” Hutchins said, “and bring another sake cup.”