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Show Hannah Mae and the Mona Lisa 115 Gus; I don't normally give lessons anymore-mostly because I'm too busy and too expensive, and I don't believe in charity. I'd expect you to come over to my place and give me some pointers about ranching-inspect the irrigation and check on the stock. Once or twice a month would probably do it." Gus clenched his hands and looked at his plate and then glanced at Dad. Dad said, "I suspect that would be fine as long as it didn't take away from your work here." The room fell so quiet you could hear the old clock ticking in the hall. Gus finally said, "I guess it wouldn't do any harm." I almost climbed on the table and shouted Halleluiah! Dad's lip curled into a little smile. Colby grinned the biggest grin. "Thanks, Dad," he said. "I'd be thanking Mr. Morris," Gus corrected. Colby did. My soul was ready to jump clean out of my heart. Tears started squeezing from my eyes and I didn't even try to hold them back. But Mr. Morris wasn't done. Not by a long shot. His eye twinkled. "One other thing," he said. "My New York gallery will be opening my portrait show next month and my painting of Hannah will be on the cover of the show catalogue." He looked my way. "An artist always wants his best painting to be on the cover." I would have blushed, but I was still too excited for Colby. |