“Is it? Old Doc never mentioned it.”
“I’m not Old Doc.”
“No, you’re not,” she admitted. “You’re much younger—and far more beautiful. Old Doc was a fat, gray old man.” She paused and eyed Kennon appraisingly with a look on her pointed face that was the virtual twin of Eloise’s. “I think I’ll like working for you if you’re as nice as you are pretty.”
“You don’t call a man beautiful or pretty!” Kennon exploded.
“Why not?”
“It just isn’t done.”
“You’re a funny human,” she said. “I called Old Doc beautiful, and he didn’t mind.”
“That’s different. He was an old man.”
“What difference does that make?”
“I don’t like it,” Kennon said, hitting on the perfect answer.