Pygmalion pulled a rag off of his table to wipe off the excess clay that had started to harden on his fingers, leaving them dry and cracked. He had respected her once, but since Valentine's and Galatea's brick wall, Pygmalion had lost some of his proper mannerisms when dealing with a god above him. "What would you have me do, my lady?" Maybe the title at the end would soothe some of her anger.