I just know he was going to do it himself; but I guess he forgot.

So I thought I'd see if he believed his own yarns.

I was going to do it every night till I scared him into sleeping in the house.
I had a perfectly lovely place to disappear into, where he couldn't trace me if he took to hunting around--only he wouldn't dare." She pulled down her sleeve very carefully, and then, just as carefully, she pushed it up again, and took another look.
"My best friend TOLD me I'd get shot if I came to Idaho," she reminded herself, with a melancholy satisfaction.
"You didn't get shot," Grant contradicted for the sake of drawing more sparks of temper where temper seemed quaintly out of place, and stared hard at her drooping profile.

"You just got nicely missed; a bullet that only scrapes off a little skin can't be said to hit.

I'd hate to hit a bear like that." "I believe you're wishing you HAD killed me! You might at least have some conscience in the matter, and be sorry you shot a lady.