“Bliss! It is you who are romantic now, Stephen. At the best, I am not
bored. And the less bliss I have, the less bored I am!”
“Then you are not bored?”
“Oh, I am—very much so at times. At such moments, I come and call on
you. I have learned to cherish our disinterested friendship ever more
and more.”
He moved as if annoyed a little; then he lit a cigarette.
“Whom?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Whom do you love?”
“Oh, an ideal according to your own taste. _A bon entendeur salut._”
Note: All the better if you have caught my meaning.
“Won’t you tell me?”
“No, I won’t. Guess, if you want to know.”
“A fool?”
“To some extent, yes.”
“Handsome?”
“Too much so by far.”
“Wealthy?”
“Indifferently.”
“It is—it is Imszanski! _Et tu, Janka!_” he exclaimed, looking into my
face with a curious expression.