'I do not think you absurd,' said Rollo, laughing still. 'Perhaps just a trifleunbusinesslike.'
'But I thought it was good business to say exactly what you mean?'
'If you were practised in rifle shooting, I should tell you that you forgot to allow for the wind.'
'Well, as I am not?'said Wych Hazel looking up at him.
'For instance. You are practising at a mark, perhaps eight hundred yards off; the first time you aim for the bull's eye, and hit it. Between the first shot and the second however, a breeze has sprung up. That alters the case. The second time you will not aim at the bull's eye, but perhapsaccording to the force of the wind a dozen feet to one side of it.'
'Did that ever happen in your shooting?'
'Such a thing has happened in my shooting.'
'And you hit it, that second time?'
'I hit ityes.'
Wych hazel looked soberly into the fire. 'You will never make a sharp-shooter of me, Olaf,' she said. 'I think nothing will ever make me learn calculation.'