really, mother, you are being quite unreasonable - even by your not very lofty standards of reasonableness.
what is the point of arguing with me, barrington? you know i never give in to arguments, they only serve to get my back up.
i thought you might make an exception for something as trivial as my wedding.
trivial indeed. you may well turn out a typical browning man, and marry five or six times, each time to a younger and more ill bred wife.
what an awful thing to say.
i am an awful person. in any case, i can not stop your wedding or make any attempt to, i am only declining to attend it. and who is going to notice my absence, decrepit and demented as i am?
my feelings will be hurt. and it is bad luck.
you are a browning man, you do not have any feelings, and you have the browning luck, which is written in the stars and also foretold by the gypsy.
which gypsy was that?
the one who wrote it in the stars.
belinda, help me out here.
it is no use, barrington. and besides, mother has a valid point. i think it is perfectly dreadful that you are marrying a girl whose grandfather was drummed out of the state senate for -
that is enough, belinda, do not talk about such things in my presence.
i am sorry, mother, i do not know what i was thinking. and besides, she is a snippy little thing.
she weighs one hundred and seventy pounds and is an olympic decathlon champion, barrington protested. that hardly qualifies her as a snippy little thing.
barrington had closed his eyes when he made this pronouncement, and when he opened them, mother had left the room and he was left alone with belinda.
come, barrington, belinda entreated him gently. let is go look at the reflection of the stars in the pond. you know that always soothes you.
that is a good idea, barrington admitted, especially as it promises to rain in about an hour, and it will be difficult to see the reflection of the stars in the pond.
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