"And do you like frolicking around?" Pearl asked,
He gazed at her without answering, as he did not hear what she had asked. His fingers drummed a light tattoo on the table. "When I look at you sometimes, I wish you could allow me to paint you," he said. “You should do that more often, Pearl.”
“Do what?”She could feel her cheeks grow warm at the intensity of his gaze.
“Smile,” he said. “With a certain degree of mischief in your eyes. The expression transforms you. Or perhaps it is just another facet of your character. I left my sketchbook at my place in London, alas, though I'm sure I could buy one here in the airport.”
“Mischief?” she asked,
“Of course you are not doing it any longer though,” he said. “I ought not to have drawn your attention to it.”
Their trip to the park last n
