“Felicity," Mrs. Featherington interurupted, "why don't you tell Mr. Brdgerton about your watercolors?"For the life of him, Colin couldn't imagine a less interesting topic (except maybe for Phillipa's watercolors), but he nonetheless turned to the youngest Featherington with a friendly smile and asked, "And how are your watercolors?"But Felicity, bless her heart, gave him a rather friendly smile herself and said nothing but, "I imagine they're fine, thank you.”

“...these vignettes I sketch for you - what are they? watercolors ..yes and dreams blurred with tears ...”

“As for me, I am a watercolor. I wash off.”

“But it was from him - with his cool, long sideburns and aviator sunglasses, and box of watercolor paints (and artist's paycheck) - from him we learned how to create beauty where none exists, how to be generous beyond our means, how to change a small corner of the world just by making a little dinner for a few friends.”

“Dylan, this is my friend, Sadie, I told you about.” He looked at me and gave me a slow smile. “Amanda said you were at school last year. How did I miss you?” he asked, his smile turning into a cocky grin. Before I could think of anything to say, Amanda cleared her throat, again and said, “And this is her date tonight, Jax Stone.”

“Why don't they just take him out?" I asked. I'm not politically minded, as I guess you can tell. Mr. Cataliades was smiling at me. "So direct, so classic," he said. "So American.”