Acutely uncomfortable, she changed the subject.

There was something uncanny in Philip's perfect comprehension of the minstrel's tactics.
A little later Mr.Poynter produced a green bug mounted eccentrically upon a bit of birch bark.
"I found a bug," he said guilelessly.

"He was a very nice little bug.
I thought you'd like him." Diane frowned.

For every flower the minstrel brought, Philip contrived a ridiculous parallel.
"How many times," she begged hopelessly, "must I tell you that I am not collecting ridiculous bugs ?" Philip raised expressive eyebrows.
"Dear me!" said he in hurt surprise.

"You do surprise me.