MR. ANHALT.
Understand you!—As to that—I am not dull.
AMELIA.
I know you are not—And as you have for a long time instructed me, why should not I now begin to teach you?
MR. ANHALT.
Teach me what?
AMELIA.
Whatever I know, and you don’t.
MR. ANHALT.
There are some things I had rather never know.
AMELIA.
So you may remember I said when you began to teach me mathematics. I said I had rather not know it—But now I have learnt it gives me a great deal of pleasure—and [hesitating] perhaps, who can tell, but that I might teach something as pleasant to you, as resolving a problem is to me.
MR. ANHALT.
Woman herself is a problem.
AMELIA.
And I’ll teach you to make her out.
MR. ANHALT.
You teach?
AMELIA.
Why not? none but a woman can teach the science of herself: and though I own I am very young, a young woman may be as agreeable for a tutoress as an old one.—I am sure I always learnt faster from you than from the old clergyman who taught me before you came.