"He is that," Quentin said with a rueful chuckle, and a shake of his head. "I found him. Or he found me. Some combination of the two, I suppose." And something in him hadn't been able to leave the scruffy little thing behind on the edge of the lake.
Mops, for his part, pranced up to Patricia, and then gave a doggy grin, with his pink tongue lolling out the corner of his mouth a bit. He looked quite pleased with himself, especially when she started to pet him, which he was quite happy about.
"Hmmm," Quentin pretended to muse. "Maybe having a small dog won't be such a bad thing. Especially if all the ladies react the same way." A teasing glint lit his eyes and he grinned as she rose to her feet. "You look good," he told her. She looked more mature, but in a good way - the last bits of childhood swept away into something more refined.
"It is partially Mops, yes, although I like to enjoy the weather while we have it." And then a pause, and a considering look. "Two meetings?" he asked.