“You were not listening,” he said.
“Oh yes, I was.”
“I do not blame you, for you have given an apt illustration of the statement I just made. What is art beside love? I respect and applaud your indifference to fine poetry when you can contemplate the meretricious charms of this young person.”
She passed by the table at which they were sitting, and he took her arm.
“Come and sit by my side, dear child, and let us play the divine comedy of love.”
