"Timothy," Theodore repeated. "It's...it's a nice name." He looked around suddenly, if convinced that the boy - Timothy, he reminded himself - must be offering ice cream to someone else. "Oh, you mean...well, I sort of do. I...if that's all right." He envied, as he often did with most people, the boy's easy confidence and unhalted speech. "I'd like that," he said, slowly but clearly, and his dry, chapped lips cracked in the slightest of smiles for this little kindness.