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Balloons by Elizabeth Bibesco
page 75 of 148 (50%)
"And we made friends."

"You always make friends with everybody."

"You are unsympathetic."

"I am, I confess, a little bewildered by the situation. Do I understand
that you are suffering from an unrequited passion for a man who is
illegitimately attached to a magnificent cow and legitimately bound to a
bewitching squirrel?"

"Matthew, you really are provoking. What I mean is that he is making a
fool of himself."

"Why not?"

"Because he might do something irrevocable."

"Lucky man."

She looked at him in desperation--a desperation half exasperation and
half enchantment. If only Matthew would sometimes appear serious--there
is something so restful about appearances. Instead of which he always
remained superlatively unsatisfactory and superlatively irresistible.

"Virginia," he said, "let us leave all this and drive round the park and
I will talk to you like a lover in a bad book and I will mean every word
I say."

"We can't go yet," she murmured.
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