“No. They damn well will not. Also I’ll tell them it is a portrait of my daughter.”
“Did you ever have a daughter?”
“No. I always wanted one.”
“I can be your daughter as well as everything else.”
“That would be incest.”
“I don’t think that would be so terrible in a city as old as this and that has seen what this city has seen.”
“Listen, Daughter.”
“Good,” she said. “That was fine. I liked it.”
“All right,” the Colonel said and his voice was thickened a little. “I liked it, too.”
“Do you see now why I love you when I know better than to do it?”
“Look, Daughter. Where should we dine?”
“Wherever you like.”
“Would you eat at the Gritti?”
“Of course.”
“Then call the house and ask for permission.”
“No. I decided not to ask permission but to send word where I was dining. So they would not worry.”
“But do you really prefer the Gritti?”
“I do. Because it is a lovely restaurant and it is where you live and anyone can look at us that wants to.”
“When did you get like that?”
“I have always been like that. I have never cared what anyone thought, ever. Nor have I ever done anything that I was ashamed of except tell lies when I was a little girl and be unkind to people.”
