He watched Sheila and her new husband whispering and box-stepping, and undertook the same experiment. She seemed pleased enough - smiling and flushed and mad to be wearing that dazzling dress - but she didn't look like she was in love, as he imagined love to look. Her eye was restive, vaguely troubled, as though she were trying to remember exactly who this man was with his arms around her waist, tipping her backward on one leg and planting a kiss on her throat.

-Michael Chabon, "S Angel"