Vincent Thorne's eyes flickered, his deep voice carrying a hint of doting affection. "Rosalind, isn't that your sister? Aren't you going to say hello?"
A flash of displeasure crossed Claire Sherwood's eyes. She lifted her eyelids, walked up to Iris Dalton, and smiled. "Iris, you want to buy a pen? I just happened to buy a Japanese fountain pen downstairs. I'll give it to you."
With that, she fished a plastic fountain pen out of her bag. The price tag hadn't even been peeled off yet: 150 yuan.
Iris didn't take the pen. Her dark, bright eyes studied it before she clicked her tongue in awe. "It's plastic! And not cheap either—over a hundred. AHEM, AHEM. I couldn't possibly accept something so precious." She coughed dryly and turned her face away.
