"That's not fair. You ought to be able to tell, yourself—it's your own theory. The trouble is that you're too theoretical. You've left me quite out of the question and tried to do it all yourself."
She put her head on one side with unaccustomed coquetry. There was a new glitter in her eyes which seemed to baffle him. For the first time she had the upper hand of him at his own game. He was like a man who had started to lift a heavy weight and had suddenly found it unexpectedly light. The reaction threw him over.
"Are you willing to help?" he asked.
"Ah, if you had only begun that way!"
"Clytie—do you mean—"
"Oh, I don't mean anything." She got up and took a turn about the room restlessly as she spoke. "It's my turn to be theoretical, that's all."
He leaned toward her very seriously. "Clytie, I'm terribly in earnest."
"I'd like more proof of it."
"Would you? What proof can I give?"
"There you are on the other side, now, making me do more than my share. I don't intend to teach you, you know!" She walked away, her hands behind her back.