“Merlin? Oh, whoa, okay.” Summer put a hand to her forehead. “Okay, okay. You’re Merlin. You live here, well, in this building, with a guy named Arthur, tall blond annoying fellow. I’m Summer — we’re best friends.”
“Merlin? What kind of name is that?”
“Your kind of name. Let me see, I think your family is Irish? Maybe your mother liked the Matter of Britain?”