"We know all about you now; Sam was the professor who lectured on you, but you can blame Kelly for turning on the searchlight." "What search-light ?" she asked, pivotting from Neville's greeting, letting her gloved hand linger in his for just a second longer than convention required.
"Harry means that portrait of you I started last year," said Neville, vexed.

"He pretends to find it full of psychological subtleties." "Do you ?" inquired Valerie.

"Have you discovered anything horrid in my character ?" "I haven't finished looking for the character yet," said Sam with an impudent grin.

"When I find it I'll investigate it." "Sam! Come here!" He came carefully, wincing when she took him by the generous lobes of both ears.
"Now _what_ did you say ?" "Help!" he murmured, contritely; "will no kind wayfarer aid me ?" "Answer me!" "I only said you were beautifully decorative but intellectually impulsive--" "No, answer me, Sam!" "Ouch! _I_ said you had a pair of baby eyes and an obstinate mouth and an immature mind that came to, conclusions before facts were properly assimilated.

In other words I intimated that you were afflicted with incurable femininity and extreme youth," he added with satisfaction, "and if you tweak my ears again I'll kiss you!" She let him go with a last disdainful tweak, gracefully escaping his charge and taking refuge behind Neville who was mixing another highball for Annan.
"This is a dignified episode," observed Neville, threatening Ogilvy with the siphon.
"Help me make tea, Sam," coaxed Valerie.