“You like Valois, don’t you?” Gunther asked.
“‘course I do. He’s great.” Mortimer dug through his pencil case; a blue furry thing with big googly eyes glued onto it. The eyes rolled wildly as Mort’s fingers delved in search of a 2B.
“So do I,” Gunther murmured, and his son gave a little snort.
“No you don’t. You luuuurve him!” He elbowed his dad, who gave him a rueful grin.
“Yeah, okay. I know, I know. I’m soooo embarrassing.”
“Yep!” Having found his pencil, Mort poked his tongue out at Gunther and started sketching.
“Actually,” Gunther began, hesitantly, “I’ve got something to ask you about Valois.”
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