Gregory told her of the plans, the final week of work, and how he had mailed them at the last possible moment.
"And if I win, I'm going to see that along with the valuables buried under the corner stone, goes a picture of the one who made it all possible."
"Who might that be?"
Gregory did not answer.
"Me?"
He nodded. His hand claimed hers.
"I shall have to have one taken then, and I've never had one since I was old enough to rebel."
"Oh, no, you won't. I'm going to draw it myself."
"What will I look like? Please don't make me in two sections, like Mary."
"You're like this." Gregory sketched a tower. It was the square Roman tower, but the top was blurred. Jean pointed to the blur.