There's a small laugh that escapes him, one he hadn't wanted to give way to. Not because he didn't find it amusing, of course, he did, but because it reminded him of reading to Charlie. There was an irony that the woman he'd fallen in love with (who was younger than his grown daughter) was asking him to do the same thing that his grown daughter had asked him to do when she was a child.

"I think you've been reading too much Jane Austin again." At least she hadn't tried to get him to read that. God help him, even if there wasn't one, if she did.