Condy sat down on the table and swung his legs But during the next few moments, while they were eating the last of their cheese, his good spirits fell rapidly away from him. He heaved a sigh, and thrust both hands gloomily into his pockets.
"Cheese, Condy?" asked Travis.
He shook his head with a dark frown, muttering: "No cheese, no cheese."
"What's wrong, Condy—what's the matter?" asked Travis, with concern.
For some time he would not tell her, answering all her inquiries by closing his eyes and putting his chin in the air, nodding his head in knowing fashion.
"But what is it?"
"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?"