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Show Hannah Mae and the Mona Lisa 37 "You've been to Paris?" I asked, and then I felt stupid because, of course Mr. Morris had been to Paris or I wouldn't be talking to him. "I mean, when have you been to Paris?" Mr. Morris studied my face. "I was a student there," he answered. "That was a long time ago." I noticed flecks of grey in his hair. "Wow," I said. "Didn't you just love it?" "Yes, I did." The answer held a hint of longing. "What did you like most?" I asked. Mr. Morris thought long. "I liked being young. I liked thinking I was going to change the world with my art." I pulled out my notebook to jot down his answer. I wasn't sure what he meant. I tried again. "What did you like most about Paris?" "Everything." He cocked his head. "Would you mind standing for me, Hannah?" I wasn't making much progress. I pushed my chair back and stood. Mr. Morris looked me over like I was a filly at an auction. He stared and stared. I asked, "Did you ever go to the Louvre?" "Lots." He studied me some more and whistled low like before. I scrunched up my forehead. Either I wasn't asking the right questions or Mr. Morris didn't remember the reason for my visit. Maybe both. "Did you ever see the Mona Lisa?" I asked. "Lots." Ugh! I needed to stop asking yes and no questions. Mr. Morris pulled a tiny notebook from his back pocket and slipped a pencil from the coil. He began to sketch |