"Can you not see that great yellow river, Clive? And the snow peaks on the horizon?... Palms, tall reeds, endless forests—everything so still—except birds flying—and a broad river rolling between forests.... And a mud-bar, swarming with crocodiles.... And a dead tree stranded there, on which large birds are sitting.... There is a big cat-shaped animal on the bank; but the forest is dark and sunless,—too dusky to see into.... I think the animal is a jaguar.... He's drinking now.... Yes, he's a jaguar—a heavy, squarely built, spotted creature with a broad, blunt head.... He's been eating a pheasant; there are feathers everywhere—bright feathers, brilliant as jewels.... Hark! You didn't hear that, did you, Clive? Somebody has shot the jaguar. They've shot him again. He's whirling 'round and 'round—and now he's down, biting at sticks and leaves.... There goes another shot. The jaguar lies very still. His jaws are partly open. He has big, yellow cat-teeth.... I can't seem to see who shot him.... There are some black men coming. One has a small American flag furled around the shaft of his spear. He's waving it over the dead jaguar. They're all dancing now.... But I can't see the man who shot him."
"I shot him," said Clive.
"I thought so." She turned and dropped back among her pillows.
"You see," she said, listlessly, "I can never seem to find you, Clive. Sometimes I suspect your presence. But I am never certain.... Why is it that a girl can't find the man she cares for most in the whole world?"
"Do you care for me as much as that?"
"Why, yes," she said, a trifle surprised.
"And do you think I return your—regard—in measure?"
She looked at him curiously, then, with her engaging and fearless smile: "Quantum suff," she said. "You know you oughtn't to care too much for me, Clive."
"How much is too much?"