"It's all your fault."

"No, it's all yours. You began."

"No, you began."

"You don't like me now," she sobbed.

"Yes, I do."

"You said I was a nasty, disagreeable thing."

"Well, I didn't mean it if I did. You said I was an ugly, unkind boy."

"Oh, but I didn't mean it," she said.

"You know I'm very fond of you."

"So am I of you."