It was a bogus affair altogether, kept by some blackguard or other of an Englishman. "I'll make myself intelligible before I've done," rejoined Wild. Her shoulders were gripped hard and a familiar voice spoke. They went to the Zoological Gardens together one Saturday to see for themselves a point of morphological interest about the toucan’s bill—that friendly and entertaining bird—and they spent the rest of the afternoon walking about and elaborating in general terms this theme and the superiority of intellectual fellowship to all merely passionate relationships. Opening the door, he found it littered with straw, on which he threw himself, and instantly fell asleep.
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