"He hasn't had a girlfriend for seven years? Could it be that guy has had his sights set on little Rabina this whole time?"
"I should introduce you to Charles Northwood sometime. I'm sure you'll find him quite likeable." He was such a gentle person; he could be friends with anyone.
"Is he better, or am I better?" Suddenly, Maxwell Peary interrupted Nia Mitchell's endless chatter.
"Err, Uncle...?"
What kind of question is Uncle asking? Nia wondered. Why would he ask something like that when I was in the middle of talking?
"Speak." Maxwell's expression had changed slightly; he looked at Nia with a serious face.
"Err, how am I supposed to answer this?" It's too embarrassing. Besides, they're not comparable at all.
"Tell the truth." Maxwell's expression had returned to normal, devoid of any warmth.
"It's really impossible to compare." Nia stood awkwardly to the side. Charles had his good points, and Maxwell had his.
