"Mr Sanford, don't look at me like that!"
"Then kindly remember that there are limits even to my patience."
"I should think that your patience was like the jam in the tart; the first bite you don't get to it, and the second you go clean over it."
"I am glad to be able to afford you so favourable an opportunity for the exercise of your extremely pretty wit. Please give me your foot."
He took it without waiting for any giving. Then immediately proceeded to comment on it, as if it had not belonged to me, or as if I had not been there.
"A dainty foot it is; and reasonably shod in decently fitting boots; not six and a quarter."
"You still seem not to understand that my size in gloves is six and a quarter."
"I'm so dull."
"You are. And something else besides."
He simply ignored my hint. I hate people not to notice when I intend to sting them. It makes you feel so helpless. He went on calmly discussing my foot.