Sydney. [Icily] I told you to leave me alone.
Kit. [Rising, huffed] Oh, well, if you can’t be decent, I’m going.
Sydney. [Sweetly] Counter attraction?
Kit. [Wheeling round on her] Now, my dear old thing, look here. I know it’s only a sort of way you’ve got into; but when you say—“men!”—with a sort of sneer, and “other attractions”—like that, in that voice, it just sounds cheap. I hate it. It’s not like you. I wish you wouldn’t.
Sydney. Dear me!
Kit. Now I suppose you’re annoyed.
Sydney. Oh, no, I’m only amused.
Kit. [Heavily] There’s nothing amusing about me, Sydney. I’m in earnest.
Sydney. I’m sure you are. You got out of answering an innocent little question quite neatly. It looks like practice.
Kit. [Harried] Now, look here, Sydney, I swear to you—