"Why is it a pity ?" he asked.
"Such a nice drawing." "It isn't a nice drawing." "You're not very polite, sir." He looked at her--and sighed as if he pitied so young a woman for having a temper so ready to take offense.

In his flattest contradictions he always preserved the character of a politely-positive man.
"Put it in plain words, miss," he replied.

"I have offended the predominant sense in your nature--your sense of self-esteem.

You don't like to be told, even indirectly, that you know nothing of Art.

In these days, everybody knows everything--and thinks nothing worth knowing after all.