“Are you sure that you exist?” she mocked.
“No, now that I think of it, I’m not sure.”
“Perhaps you are an imaginary person that I invented,” she insisted.
“If any one could invent me, I think you might.”
“Oh, easily!”
“That shows how little you know me,” he said. “I don’t think you invented me, after all. You would be prouder of me if you had. Masterpieces like that are not thrown off every day.”
“Masterpiece? A mere jeu d’esprit!”
“I renounce you utterly,” he said. “You are a base pretender. Besides, you are too young to have thought of such things. I believe you said you were twenty-five.”
“I lied, to impress you. I am twenty-four. How old are you?”
“I am twenty-four, too,” he said. “Remarkable coincidence!”