“I was lying!”

“Who is this again?”

“Is that what that meant?”

“I did? Was it more than two weeks ago? Because I’ve stopped drinking since then.”

“Yeah, well, you said you were a blonde! And female!”

“I said I loved your haircut.”

“I said I loved your money.”

“No, I said I ’snubbed’ you. Remember? They sound pretty much the same.”

“Would you believe I said I loved your sheep, Ewe? No?”

“Yes, I do! And that’s why I’ve got to go. Where? Oh, somewhere away from here, I’m not sure. No, don’t get up– you stay here! No time to explain!”

“Yes, my sweet, I do love you. I love you like the fires of Mount Vesuvius, like the molten rivers that slide down her peaks with liquid power. I love you as all the stars in the sky, as the sun that rises in the morning and sets in the evening, as all the flowers in the meadow. When you pass, they bend their stems and bow to your greatness, to your beauty, to my love for you. Yes, I certainly do love you, my darling, and I– wait! Where are you going? Come back!”