Kenneth Osborne watched Lawrence Winters' face turn red like the first batch of pink peaches on a peach tree in spring.
He felt an itch in his hand, reached out and pinched it, laughing, "You don't like it?"
Lawrence snapped back to reality and teased, "It's not that I don't like it... But don't you think it's a bit redundant?"
Kenneth sat at the edge of the dressing table, arms crossed, smiling at her, "Why is it redundant?"
"This is your bedroom. Who would casually come into your bedroom?" Lawrence regained her composure, starting to think precisely, "If it's a man, does he care if there's a female presence in your bedroom? Unless he's gay, but you don't know any gay men. If it's a woman, why would she come into your bedroom?"
"So, placing a women's dressing table in your bedroom, apart from ruining the overall décor, what other purpose does it serve?"
Kenneth: "..."
Damn! He hadn't considered these questions at all.
