Aurelia coughed again. “I added that from the same studies and statistics I was also inclined to believe that love is the tragedy of those who lack it, the boredom of those who don’t.”
“Eh?” Buttercups whined. “I don’t understand that either.”
“I further stated that love is a specific emotion, more or less exclusive in selection, more—or less—permanent in duration and due to a mental disturbance, in itself caused by a law of attraction which somebody or other said was the myth of happiness, invented by the devil for man’s despair.”
Helplessly Buttercups groaned. “I don’t understand that at all.”
With birdlike ease Aurelia hopped from the bench and with consoling delicacy nodded:
“Violet said she didn’t either.”
Buttercups brightened. “Now there’s a woman of sense.”
Very sweetly Aurelia nodded again. “Leilah Barouffska said she did understand, so I may suppose that she is stupid.”
At the shot—which missed him—Buttercups tormented the tip of his nose.