Looking up over the edge of the book, Horace's eyes met Molly's. Although the book hid it, Horace was smiling--one could tell by the crinkles around his eyes. "I daresay, Ginny must have inherited that sharp tongue from you, or learned through observation."
There was a loud slap as Horace shut the book abruptly, which kicked up dust on a nearby shelf. "Just another one of her talents, I presume. That wit always made Lily an enjoyable addition to my dinner parties, as it does with your Ginny."