Phoebe Wood was stunned, but Mrs. Clegg was all smiles, her eyes narrowing with amusement.
"Wow, our little Paris, your French sounds so lovely! Clearly from Paris, not some naive baby who's never seen the world." Mrs. Clegg deliberately said this, quietly slapping Phoebe Wood in the face without making a sound.
Initially, Mrs. Clegg had thought Phoebe Wood to be a decent girl, but seeing her mock Paris earlier, Mrs. Clegg wasn't too pleased.
She worried that Paris might be quietly bullied, but who knew the little darling would strike back with just a few casual words, leaving Phoebe Wood powerless to respond.
Mr. Clegg nodded at Phoebe Wood, "Anne, you see, Paris's abilities are quite substantial. She's not shy, just unfamiliar with you. It's a good habit to not follow strangers, a sign of high intelligence. She's not at all shy with grandma and grandpa, right, little Paris?"
Upon hearing this, Paris blinked her large eyes and nodded her little head vigorously in agreement.
