Ruby (Landry 1)

she belonged on the cover of the copy of Vogue she

was reading. She put it down and turned as my father

and I came out to greet her. He kissed her on the

cheek.

"Should I say good morning or good

afternoon?" he asked.

"For you two, it looks like it's definitely

afternoon," she replied, her eyes on me. "Did you

have a good time?"

"A wonderful time," I declared.

"That's nice. I see you bought a new painting,

Pierre."

"Not just a new painting, Daphne, a new Ruby

Dumas," he said, and gave me a wide, conspiratorial

smile. Daphne's eyebrows rose.

"Pardon?"

My father unwrapped the picture and held it up.

"Isn't it pretty?" he asked.

"Yes," she said in a noncommittal tone of

voice. "But I still don't understand."

"You won't believe this, Daphne," he began,

quickly sitting down across from her. He told her my

story. As he related the tale, she gazed from him to

me.

"That's quite remarkable," she said after he

concluded.

"And you can see from the work and from the

way she has been received at the gallery that she has a

great deal of artistic talent, talent that must be

developed."