"On the Matterhorn—no, I mean on the Jungfrau. I never put any specimen into this herbarium which I have not procured with my own hands."
"I see—so it becomes a sort of record of your wanderings," said Ethel. "And you really are a mountain-climber?"
"Not to any perilous extent. I went for this specimen."
"And turned back as soon as you had got it!"
Tom's "yes" was innocent. He did not understand Ethel's tone.
"Of course I could have bought a specimen; but that would not have been the same thing."
"Like bagging partridges," suggested Ethel, wanting a flash of some sort to relieve the dead level of talk.
But though Tom could sometimes originate slow fun, he never could respond to anybody else's fun; and his look of blank inquiry made it needful for her to explain.
"I mean, you would only count the partridges which you had shot yourself; not what—But perhaps you don't shoot."
"I have been after kangaroos—once," said Tom.