"It's kind of odd, the way it worked out for them."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, two supposed enemies, falling so madly in love? You only ever hear about that in stories and plays."
Malone looked very pointedly at Adela, on whom the morning light cast a very flattering glow and who was sitting with her usual rigid posture in his bed beside him, drinking the coffee from his kitchen out of a mug his mother had bought him, exuding her usual professionalism despite her scandalous state of dishabille. He was doing the same.
"You're right," he said, reclining back into his pillows. "That would be ridiculous."