...that's quite a smile you have there, Mr. Sharpe.

Molly quickly looked back down at her muffin, wary of the temptation to look him in the eyes. She tore half of the muffin in her hand into quarters, set down one half, and then tore the quarter into eighths. "It certainly looks good."

Probably made with white flour. Oh well.

Feeling abruptly self-conscious, she paused just as she was about to pop that eighth of a muffin into her mouth. "Don't you want anything?"