"I try not to, but I generally manage to raise hell with every pool before I get a chance to fish it.
I'll show you just where he lies.

Watch!" His cast of flies whistled wildly; there was a quick pang of pain in her shoulder and she gave a frightened cry.
"Good Lord! Have I got _you_ ?" he exclaimed, aghast.
"You certainly have," she retorted, exasperated, "and you had better come up and get this hook out! You'll need it if you want to fish any more." Dripping and horrified, he scrambled up the bank to the footbridge; she flinched, but made no sound, as he freed her from the hook; a red stain appeared on the sleeve of her waist, above the elbow.
"It's fortunate that it was a b-barbless hook," he stammered, horribly embarrassed and contemplating with dismay the damage he had accomplished; "otherwise," he added, "we would have had to cut out the hook.

We're rather lucky, I think.

Is it very painful ?" "Sufficiently," she said, disgusted.

"But I suppose this sort of thing is nothing unusual for you." "I've hooked one or two people," he admitted, reddening.