"Don't ask me," said Bertie.
"You flared up and were truly eloquent on the subject."
"I never was eloquent in my life."
"And you never flared up?"
"I did not say that. But whatever I may be, I am not a genius of any sort, not even a poet."
"There's a sly dab at you, Charley."
"I have not made any poetry lately," said Charley, dubiously.
"Perhaps the fire in your soul has gone out," said Bertie. "Can't you kindle it up again?"
"I am out of kindlings at present. Can I borrow of you, Amy?"
"It wouldn't be the first time," observed Amy, with a merry twinkle in her eye.