"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. Condy, let's do this lots."
"Do what?"
"Go round to queer little, interesting little places. We've had a glorious time to-day, haven't we?—and we haven't been talked out once.
"As we were last night, for instance," he hazarded.
"I THOUGHT you felt it, the same as I did. It WAS a bit awful wasn't it?"