"Yes. What—?"
There were more sounds of struggle. "This is rather awkward. I—the fact is, I am afraid, that I am stuck myself. Could you—"
"Yes, of course," said David. He smiled to himself, a little shakily, and re-entered the thicket. When he had disentangled the bird, the two of them sat down on the grass and looked at each other. They hesitated, not quite sure how to begin.
"I trust," said the bird at last, "that you are not of a scientific turn of mind?"
"I don't know," said David. "I'm interested in things, if that's what you mean."
"No, it is not. There is a great deal of difference between the interest shown by normal people and the obsessive interest of scientists. You are not, I hope, acquainted with any scientists?"
"No."
"Ah," said the bird, with a relieved sigh. "Everything is quite all right, then. I do hope that you will forgive my behavior. I am not usually so rude. The fact is that you gave me quite a horrible start."
"Oh, I'm sorry I frightened you."
"Frightened, my dear fellow?" said the bird testily. "I am never frightened. I do not know the meaning of the word."