You're so----" "Go on; don't mind hurting me.

So uncouth, awkward, clumsy, lacking in--er--understanding, wasn't it ?" Farnsworth spoke bitterly, and his deep blue eyes were clouded.
"No," Patty returned, gently, "no, I didn't mean all those horrid things, and you know it! I meant, you're so busy with your mines and things, and so wrapped up in your business that it's surprising to know you have time for poetry." "It's _my_ theory that one can always find time for anything he really wants to do ?" "Can he?
Do you suppose, then, you could find time to teach me a little bit about poetry, and how to study it,--or, don't you really want to do this ?" Farnsworth looked at her, and a great and tender light came into his eyes.

Then, with a quick smile, he said, lightly, "Yes, indeed; I'll make out a list of books for you tomorrow.

May I send them to you ?" Patty was aware of a sudden lack of enthusiasm in Farnsworth's manner, and with equal coolness, she said, "Thank you, that won't be necessary.
Just send the list, and I can get them.

And, now I think I must begin to commence to think about considering going home." "Yes, it's late.