"We would have had it, you know, if you hadn't been quite so clever about getting rid of me."
"I have a feeling of irreparable loss."
Her lovely face seemed to grow dark and warm from within as her long lashes dipped for a moment. Then she raised them again in a slow stare that could have had many sources.
"You really hate me, don't you?"
He shook his head judicially, his brow wrinkled by a frown that was very vague and distant.
"Not so much."
"You don't like me."
He smiled easily, and started to open a fresh pack of cigarettes.
"Like you? Darling, I always thought you were terrific. I would have loved our honeymoon. But unfortunately I haven't any of the instincts of the male scorpion. I never could see consummation and immolation as interchangeable words. And I wasn't nearly so anxious to get rid of you as you were to get rid of me — permanently."
"I didn't—"