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The following text is from Mark Haber's 2022 novel Saint Sebastian's Abyss. The narrator and Schmidt are both art critics.
When my first wife admitted to Schmidt over dinner that she didn't find art, painting in particular, especially compelling, Schmidt winced, set down his fork, and sighed dramatically; he then excused himself, explaining an appointment he'd forgotten about had suddenly and inexplicably been remembered, while making it abundantly clear there was no appointment at all.
When my first wife admitted to Schmidt over dinner that she didn't find art, painting in particular, especially compelling, Schmidt winced, set down his fork, and sighed dramatically; he then excused himself, explaining an appointment he'd forgotten about had suddenly and inexplicably been remembered, while making it abundantly clear there was no appointment at all.