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Show Hannah Mae and the Mona Lisa 109 "Yes. But he shouldn't be left alone." "Then bring him along. Tomorrow-same time as planned." "Colby would love it," I breathed. "He really would." She smiled and squeezed my hand and walked to her car, but instead of turning the ignition, she reached to her back seat and retrieved a folder. She opened the car door and walked back to the market. "I found something else in your French book," she said. She handed me the folder. "Perhaps you could return this. It has Colby's name on it." I opened the folder and spied Colby's Mona Lisa-now a long ago memory. "Colby was trying to help me with my essay," I explained. "I forgot I put it in my French book." "He's a good artist," she said. "I've been telling him that for years." "Has he taken lessons?" I shook my head. She understood. She had lived in Willard long enough to know. "Have you taken a close look at Colby's sketch?" she asked. "Not as close as I should," I admitted. "I never got back to it. .." "Take a look," she instmcted. "Take a look at the eyes." I studied Colby's sketch and my knees went weak. I steadied myself against the table. Colby had drawn my eyes on the Mona Lisa. My eyes! Miss Larkin waited for my reaction and said, "Seems to me, Mr. Morris isn't the only artist who's smitten with your eyes." |