"We are neither of us children now, Audrey."
"Speak for yourself. I was an infant in the eyes of the law till the other day."
"You are—let me see—five-and-twenty. If you have any mind at all, you must have made it up by this time."
"The case would be much easier if you were not such a mass of inconsistency yourself."
"I've been consistent enough in one respect. Do you remember the first time you stayed with us at Woodford, when you weren't much higher than that table, and how you and I set off together for Wanstead Woods?"
"Yes—before breakfast. I have never forgotten it."
"Nor I. You did rile me that day, Audrey. You waited till we came within a stone's-throw of the woods, and then you sat down in a turnip field and cried because you couldn't go any farther."
"After running at your heels for two miles, like a dog."
"Yes—and, with the irresponsibility of the inferior animal, eating up the whole of the cake I provided for us both."
"It was perfectly fair; you dragged me out against my will."