"Yes, yes, my aunt was named Nesryn," he told her, rolling the name in the original Persian pronunciation, which was the last time he probably spoke the name. "And she lived up to it. She was always asking questions, seeking the truth, bringing to account those who perhaps did not see the errors of their ways, or were judging others for crimes that they themselves were committing," he burbled on. He had not thought of her for many centuries and he was quietly pleased with his own recall.
"It did at one point cause me to be, shall we say, rather caught redhanded in boiling water?" His grasp of English, far removed from his native tongues, was strong, but when he started to recall things from his past he had a tendency to slip at times, either in grammar or colloquialisms, getting them slightly tangled.