THE UNSOLVED PROBLEM
"ELIZA," I said one evening, "do you think that you are fonder of me than I am of you, or that I am fonder of you than you are of me?"
She answered, "What is thirteen from twenty-eight?" without looking up from the account-book.
"I do think," I said, "that when I speak to you you might have the civility to pay some little attention."
She replied, "One pound fifteen and two, and I hope you know where we are to get it from, for I don't. And don't bang on the table in that silly way, or you'll spill the ink."
"I did not bang. I tapped slightly from a pardonable impatience. I put a plain question to you some time ago, and I should like a plain answer to it."
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