"You annoy me," she said.

"The pies annoy me; won't you tell me what they're for?"

"I have a pretty fair idea what they're for," she observed, tossing
her head. "Haven't you?"

"No. What?"

"These pies are for bait."

"To bait hooks with?" I exclaimed.

"Hooks! No, you silly man. They're for baiting the cage. He means to
trap these transparent creatures in a cage baited with pie."

She laughed scornfully; inserted the burned tip of her finger in her
mouth and stood looking at me defiantly like a flushed and bright-eyed
school-girl.

"You think you're teasing me," she said; "but you do not realize what
a singularly slow-minded young man you are."

I stopped laughing. "How did you come to the conclusion that pies were
to be used for such a purpose?" I asked.

"I deduce," she observed, with an airy wave of her disengaged hand.

"Your deductions are weird--like everything else in this vicinity.
Pies to catch invisible monsters? Pooh!"

"You're not particularly complimentary, are you?" she said.

"Not particularly; but I could be, with you for my inspiration. I
could even be enthusiastic--"

"About my pies?"

"No--about your eyes."

"You are very frivolous--for a scientist," she said, scornfully;
"please subdue your enthusiasm and bring me some wood. This fire is
almost out."