you; but as for loving each other, you know we don't. Yes, you
say that you love me and that I'm the only girl. That's part of
the game. I can play it"--her little eyes began to dance--"quite
as well as you. But it's playing with something that's quite too
serious to be played with--after all, isn't it, now? It's
insincere, and, as I tell you, from now on I'm going to be as true
and as sincere and as honest as I can."

"But I tell you that I DO love you," protested Condy, trying to
make the words ring true.

Travis looked about the room an instant as if in deliberation;
then abruptly: "Ah! what am I going to DO with such a boy as you
are, after all--a great big, overgrown boy? Condy Rivers, look at
me straight in the eye. Tell me, do you honestly love me? You
know what I mean when I say 'love.' Do you love me?"

"No, I don't!" he exclaimed blankly, as though he had just
discovered the fact.

"There!" declared Travis--"and I don't love you." They both began
to laugh.

"Now," added Travis, "we don't need to have the burden and trouble
of keeping up the pretences any more. We understand each other,
don't we?"

"This is queer enough," said Condy drolly.

"But isn't it an improvement?"