Ian Quincy read between the lines—she wasn't easy to fool.
Cecilia Adler yawned. "I'm suddenly feeling a little sleepy. Let's go to bed."
"Okay." Ian Quincy reached out a long arm and flicked off the light switch.
The room plunged into darkness and silence.
Ian Quincy closed his eyes to rest. When he opened them again, the sky was bright, and the clock pointed to seven.
'He was still here.'
'This is nice.'
"Cecilia."
"In the kitchen, Ian! Breakfast is ready. Hurry and get cleaned up so you can eat."
Ian Quincy answered.
Cecilia Adler finished setting the table and waited for him.
About five minutes later, Ian Quincy walked over, pulled out the chair beside her, and sat down. "What time did you get up? You made so many pan-fried dumplings."
Cecilia Adler said, "Six-thirty. I bought them." 'I have savings now, there's no way I'm going to slave away all morning just to save a few dimes. I'd rather use that time to figure out how to market that shampoo.'
