That's when it hit me.
"Webster?" I said. "You're seeing Webster!"
She toggled her head vertically and released air from her lungs.
"Webster loves me," she said.
"Webster doesn't know what love is!" I cried. "Merri, I adore you, worship you, I'm your admirer, your follower, your aficionado, your enthusiast, your fan, your devotee, your adherent, your buff! Webster can't be those things. What can he give you that I cannot?"
"Meaning," she whispered. "He gives me meaning."
"Wait a minute. I thought Funk and Wagnall gave you meaning! Remember them? I guess their meanings weren't so definitive, eh?"
"I don't do three-ways," she said.
"Well, you sure get around. Whatever happened to that 'May I quote you' creep? Remember how 'familiar' you were with him?"
"Leave Bartlett out of this," she said.