Page 240 - Bridget Jones's Diary - by Helen FIELDING

'What's the matter?'

'Um,' I said, flailing for an excuse for being so angry. 'That was a horrible
thing to do to a young whippersnapper, throwing your weight about and
humiliating him like that at a sensitive age.' Then, noticing his baffled
expression, I gabbled on. 'Though I do appreciate your asking me to your party.

Marvelous. Thank you very much. Fantastic party.'

'Yes. I think you've said that,' he said, blinking fast. The truth is, he looked
rather agitated and hurt.

'I . . . He paused, then started pacing around the patio, sighing and running his
hand through his hair. 'How's the . . . Have you read any good books lately?'

Unbelievable.

'Mark,' I said. 'If you ask me once more if I've read any good books lately I'm

going to eat my head. Why don't you ask me something else? Ring the changes a
bit. Ask me if I've got any hobbies, or a view on the single European currency,
or if I've had any particularly disturbing experiences with rubber.'

'I . . . ' he began again.

'Or if I had to sleep with Douglas Hurd, Michael Howard or Jim Davidson
which one I'd choose. Actually, no contest, Douglas Hurd.'

'Douglas Hurd?' said Mark.

'Mmm. Yes. So deliciously strict but fair.'

'Hmmm,' said Mark thoughtfully. 'You say that, but Michael Howard's got an
extremely attractive and intelligent wife. He must have some sort of hidden
charms.'

'Like what, you mean?' I said, childishly, hoping he would say something

about sex.