And, rod in hand, she bent breathless and intent over the bushes, cautiously thrusting the tip through a thicket of mint.
She lost two fish, then hooked a third--a small one; but when she lifted it gasping into the sunlight, she shivered and called to Selwyn: "Unhook it and throw it back! I--I simply can't stand that!" Splash! went the astonished trout; and she sighed her relief.
"There's no doubt about it," she said, "you and I certainly do belong to different species of the same genus; men and women _are_ separate species.

Do you deny it ?" "I should hate to lose you that way," he returned teasingly.
"Well, you can't avoid it.

I gladly admit that woman is not too closely related to man.

We don't like to kill things; it's an ingrained distaste, not merely a matter of ethical philosophy.

You like to kill; and it's a trait common also to children and other predatory animals.
Which fact," she added airily, "convinces me of woman's higher civilisation." "It would convince me, too," he said, "if woman didn't eat the things that man kills for her." "I know; isn't it horrid! Oh, dear, we're neither of us very high in the scale yet--particularly you." "Well, I've advanced some since the good old days when a man went wooing with a club," he suggested.
"_You_ may have.