[How intriguing. Elizabeth's urge to figuratively prod Connor's brain grows and for a moment she feels guilty for it. Mr. Darcy's letter had taught her her own folly at thinking herself a good judge of character or even a great studier of the topic.

Still, she reasoned with herself, it didn't hurt to at least feel out what sort of person - or android, if you will - this fellow was. At the very least she could think about it more thoroughly and not base her thoughts off idly assumptions or damaged pride.]

I promise you that I never flatter for a reason so simple as being nice. Pardon me for being so blunt but in my own time, we have nothing quite like yourself. I should be more shocked if I were not impressed.

[She tips her head some.]

May I inquire as to what you mean by "difficulties"?