He particularly liked the phrase "brilliant painter" and hoped Garry had troubled to read the thing through himself before he sent it.

It might inspire him to quotation in the grill-room.
Nevertheless, Kenny, with the clipping in his hand, had a picturesque moment of confusion.
"It--it's just the sort of thing we call a 'blurb,' Miss West!" he protested.
"It says in print," said the girl, her eyes wide and direct, "what your son wrote in his letter." The heart of the lad! Kenny had a bad minute.

Until with his quest upon the back of him he remembered Peredur and felt better.

Peredur had gone in quest of the Holy Grail.

And he had found fair ladies.
History, romance, legend, call it what you please, was merely repeating itself with the hero again Celtic and chivalrous.
With Peredur for precedent Kenny laughed softly, his eyes a-twinkle.
"Ah, well," he said with a hint more of brogue than usual, "we've an Irish saying that there never was a fool who hadn't another fool to admire him! Trouble is," he added, saving himself and Brian with a whimsical air of loyalty, "the lad is no fool!" "It's helped so," said Joan, "to know that Don is with someone like your son.