"She's a dancer." He was proud of her, he realized. Not the kind of pride that came when something was owned, or existed to make someone else look good, but simply that there was so much about her that he was eager to tell, now that he had started. "She works with the ballet. She's smart, and funny, and she's... kind. And she's been patient with me."

He gave Eleanor a smile, faintly rueful. "I'm not really sure what I'm doing, you see. With most things."