‘Have you a kiss for your sweetheart?’ She wrinkled her small upturned nose and wriggled to get down from his arms. ‘No,’ she said frankly. ‘Nasty.’ ‘I’m what?’ ‘Smell nasty. Uncle Ashley don’t smell nasty.’ ‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ he said ruefully, putting her on the floor. ‘I never expected to find a temperance advocate in my own home, of all places!’
