“Joe Willard turned from his study of the trees beyond the window and raised his hand. ‘Yes, Joe?’ Mr. Gaston said, changing his tone. ‘It is my opinion sir, that apple blossoms are pink.’ Mr. Gaston was silent, stunned. ‘Pinkish, rather.’ Joe continued. ‘I think Betsy’s word ‘rosy’ is excellent. They’re colored just enough to make the effect rosy.′ The silence in the room had width, height, depth, mass and substance.”
