suppressed merriment bubbling forth unrestrained.

"Oh, you'll be the death of me," she laughed, the tears running down
her cheeks. "I can't stand being bottled up another minute. I can't."

Jerry was offended.

"I don't see what there is to laugh at," he said with some dignity.

"You don't--that's just it, you don't, and that's what's so funny."

And she laughed again.

"What's funny?" he asked.

"You--!"

"I'm not half as funny as _you_ are, but I don't laugh at you."

"Y--you w-would if you didn't p-pity me so much," she gasped between
giggles.

"I don't pity you at all. And I think you're extremely foolish to
laugh so much at nothing."

"Even when I'm laughing at y-you?"

She had taken out her handkerchief and now composed herself with
difficulty while Jerry's ruffled dignity in silence preened at its
feathers. She watched him furtively, I'm sure, between dabs with her