Now Lindy's finger was wrapped around the trigger and she remembered Judd had told her to squeeze it, not to pull it. If you pulled the trigger you jerked the rifle and spoiled your aim. You had to squeeze it slowly....
The animal seemed politely interested.
Suddenly, a delicious languor stole over Lindy. It possessed her all at once and she had no idea where it came from. Her legs had been stiff and tired from the all-morning trek through the swamp, but now they felt fine. Her whole body was suffused in a warm, satisfied glow of well-being. And laziness. It was an utterly new sensation and she could even feel it tingling at the roots of her hair. She sighed and lowered the rifle.
"I don't want to shoot it," she said.
"You just told me you did."
"I know, but I changed my mind. What's the matter, can't I change my mind?"
"Of course you can change your mind. But I thought you wanted a coat of those things."
"Yes, I suppose I do. But I don't want to shoot it, that's all."
Judd snorted. "I think you have a streak of softness someplace in that pretty head of yours!"
"Maybe. I don't know. But I'd still like the pelt. Funny, isn't it?"