"I hate champagne," said Peter viciously.
"Of course."
"Why 'of course'?"
"There's something which doesn't fit in your popping a champagne cork. It's like laughing in church."
"Champagne is vulgar. It's only good for a bean-feast."
"You're going to have some, I suppose?" She looked at him in a way that spoke between the lines of her question.
Peter hated the challenge of her light inquiry. He wanted to deepen it. In many small ways Vivette had held herself out to Peter, but she did not seem to care what he would do.
He poured himself some wine and drank to her.
"This is excellent champagne," he said brightly. Then he drooped. "It isn't my stuff," he added.
"I love it. Pop—and it's all over."