"Yes, I'm dry now."
"Did you have any luck?"
"I got fifteen—counting shell-drake, two redheads, a black duck, and some buffle-heads."
"Where were you shooting?"
"Off Silver Shoal."
"Who was your bay-man?"
"Bill Nostrand."
"Why did you stop shooting so early?"
"Fifteen is the local limit this year."
Athalie nodded and bit into her turnover, reflectively. When she looked up, something in the boy's eye interested her.