"Look at the sky," he said, and it was such a quick subject-change that I looked at the sky. There was some broken cirrus, way up high, the first bit of moonlight silvering the edges.
"Pretty sky," I said.
"It is a perfect sky?"
"Well, it's always a perfect sky, Don."
"Are you telling me that even though it's changing every second, the sky is always a perfect sky?"
"Gee, I'm smart. Yes ?"

She is absolutely gorgeous.