"I'm afraid I shall never conquer your proper names. As for your wonderful charms—"
"I'll give you a lesson," interrupted Indiana. "Suppose you saw a chubby little partridge over there in the scrub fern and wanted to bag him—what would you say?"
Lord Canning took his gun and levelled it in the direction indicated.
"I should say, I'm afraid the little fellow's out of gunshot, but I'll try."
"That's not American—to be afraid!"
"No, you'd guess."
"I—guess—when there's game to bring down! Never!" She seized her gun and levelled it at him. "I'd just bag him! Aren't you afraid?"
"No," looking at her meaningly, "ready and eager to be sacrificed!"
Indiana dropped her gun, laughing rather coquettishly.
"Good hunting, Indiana?" asked Mrs. Bunker.