"Illusions?" she echoed faintly, and raised her eyes to his with a pitiful
attempt at a smile. "Oh, but I must have lost them, long ago; else I
shouldn't be...."

"Here and what you are. That's what I'm telling you."

She shuddered imperceptibly; looked down and up again, swiftly, her
expression inscrutable, her voice a-tremble between laughter and tears:
"Well?"

"Eh?" The directness of her query figuratively brought him up all standing,
canvas flapping and wind out of his sails.

"What are you offering me in exchange for my silly dream?" she inquired, a
trace of spirit quickening her tone.

"A fair exchange, I think ... something that I wouldn't offer you if you
hadn't been able to dream." He paused, doubtful, clumsy.

"Go on," she told him faintly.... Since it must come, as well be over with
it.

"See here." He took heart of desperation. "You took to Maitland when you
thought he was me. Why not take to me for myself? I'm as good a man, better
_as_ a man, than he, if I do blow my own horn.... You side with me, little
woman, and--and all that--and I'll treat you square. I never went back on a
pal yet. Why," brightening with enthusiasm as his gaze appraised her, "with
your looks and your cleverness and my knowledge of the business, we can
sweep the country, you and I."