Sylvain & Ingrid C / houses.fedatamine.com

Ingrid, Sylvain enter the scene

...

That was quite a sigh. What's wrong, Ingrid?

Tell me, Sylvain. What am I to you?

You're my friend...one of my oldest, in fact.

An old friend, is it?

Then why must I clean up the casualties left behind by your... Your skirt chasing!

Heh, nobody asked you to do that. Heck, I thought you enjoyed it.

Besides, you're real good at it. I'm excited to continue working with you.

Do you mean to imply you have no intention of acting a bit more respectably?

Please don't yell like that. Everybody's staring at us.

When you were eight, you came on to my sweet, sweet granny. My granny!

Come on. I was eight and she was gorgeou— That was a long time ago.

Sylvain hit on Ingrid's grandmother? Wow...

People can hear you! Please be quiet.

When you were ten, we went to that harvest festival, and you started making eyes at a scarecrow!

A scarecrow?!

Wait a second. That was just an accident...a tragic, tragic accident.

When you were fifteen, you sought—relentlessly, might I add—to involve yourself with Lord Gwendal's daughter.

Who do you suppose made peace with the furious lord, despite having nothing to do with it? Hm? Me. Always me, always for you. Every time.

What a jerk...

You know what? This conversation is over. I'm done.

My point is that this has to end. Not later, but now.

Fine, I promise I'll try to change. Are you happy now?