"You don't respect me," he muttered; and for a long time this was
all that could be got from him. No, no, she did not respect him;
no, she did not take him seriously.

"But of course I do. Why don't I? Condy Rivers, what's got into
you NOW?"

"No, no; I know it. I can tell. You don't take me seriously.
You don't respect me."

"But why?"

"Make a blooming buffoon of myself," he mumbled tragically.

In great distress Travis labored to contradict him. Why, they had
just been having a good time, that was all. Why, she had been
just as silly as he. Condy caught at the word.

"Silly! There. I knew it. I told you. I'm silly. I'm a
buffoon.--But haven't we had a great afternoon?" he added, with a
sudden grin.

"I never remember," announced Travis emphatically, "when I've had
a better time than I've had to-day; and I know just why it's been
such a success."

"Why, then?"

"Because we've had no foolishness. We've just been ourselves, and
haven't pretended we were in love with each other when we are not.