"I gathered them up very carefully in my handkerchief and left them in my bureau drawer."
"Now, why"—he spoke curiously—"why did you do that?"
"I hate to throw away flowers. They are precious to me."
There was silence again, and then he said reprovingly,—
"No, you mustn't do that."
"Do what?"
"You mustn't get up earlier to catch me scattering my rose leaves. That wouldn't be fair."
"That was what I was thinking." She mused a moment. "No, I suppose it wouldn't be fair."
"You see we shall have to play fair every minute. That's the way to be good playmates."
"That's what we are, isn't it—playmates?"