‘All right,’ said Joe, reaching for the blue scalloped vegetable dish. ‘But I hate for you to be giving lessons. It isn’t Art. But you’re a trump and a dear to do it.’
‘When one loves one’s Art no service seems too hard,’ said Delia.
‘Magister praised the sky in that sketch I made in the park,’ said Joe. ‘And Tinkle gave me permission to hang two of them in his window. I may sell one if the right kind of a moneyed idiot sees them.’
‘I’m sure you will,’ said Delia sweetly. ‘And now let’s be thankful for General Pinkney and this veal roast.’