"It is not a plagiarism if quotable, original, and prior!" Delia stutters "If it were, than who would know?"
Delia takes her beret out of her hair and turning, bunches it up again. Returning to the subject, and breathily, with finality, snarls "and what the fuck do you know about it?"
I avoid her glare. Not everything, I intend to convey. But I say "Nothing." And that's that. Delia's got a lot going for her, but she can be brittle, and I don't want to be around when she snaps.