conversation. Jerry wasn't much given to small talk.

"I'm sorry you don't think I'm polite. I--I'm not used to talking to
women. They're too fussy about trifles. What does it matter--"

"I don't call throwing a female visitor over a wall a trifle," she
broke in. "And it isn't quite hospitable. Now is it?"

Jerry rubbed his head and regarded her seriously.

"Now that you mention it, I don't suppose it is. But nobody asked you.
You just came. Didn't you see the trespass signs?"

"Oh, yes, they're all about," she said carelessly, as she picked up
her tin specimen-box and turned away. "I didn't mean to stay. I
followed a butterfly. He came in the iron railings, where the stream
goes through the wall. I crawled under where the iron is bent. If
you're afraid of women you'd better have it fixed."

"Afraid!" It was one word that Jerry detested. "Afraid! That's funny.
Do you think I'm afraid of _you_?"

"Yes," she replied, eyeing him critically. "I rather think you are."

"Well, I--I'm not. It would take more than a woman to make _me_
afraid."

Something in the turn of the phrase and tone of voice made her turn
and examine him with a new interest.