e
went on: "It made me think of it, what you said down to the saloon
to-night about livin' so you didn't care what come after. Well, he made
up his min', this Dent--Dantes--that one hour o' happiness with her was
worth the whole da--" She checked the word on her tongue, and concluded:
"outfit that come after. He was willin' to sell out his chances for
sixty minutes with 'er. Well, I jest put the book down an' hollered."
And once more she broke into a hearty laugh.

"Of course you did," agreed Johnson, joining in the laugh. "All the
same," he presently added, "you knew he was right."

"I didn't!" she contradicted with spirit, and slowly went back to the
book-shelf with the book.

"You did."

"Didn't!"

"You did."

"Didn't! Didn't!"

"I don't--"

"You do, you do," insisted the Girl, plumping down into the chair which
she had vacated at the table.

"Do you mean to say--" Johnson got no further, for the Girl, with a
naivete that made her positively bewitching to the man before her, went
on as if there had been no interruption:

"That a feller could so wind h'ms'lf up as to say, 'Jest give me one
hour o' your sassiety; time ain't nothin', nothin' ain't nothin' only to
be a da--darn fool over you!' Ain't it funny to feel like that?" And
then, before Johnson could frame an answer:

"Yet, I s'pose there are people that love into the grave an' into death
an' after." The Girl's voice lowered, stopped. Then, looking straight
ahead of her, her eyes glistening, she broke out with:

"Golly, it jest lifts you right up by your bootstraps to think of it,
don't it?"

Johnson was not smiling now, but sat gazing intently at her through
half-veiled lids.

"It does have that effect," he answered, the wonder of it all creeping
into his voice.

"Yet, p'r'aps he was ahead o' the game. P'r'aps--" She did not finish
the sentence, but broke out with fresh enthusiasm: "Oh, say, I jest love
this conversation with you! I love to hear you talk! You give me idees!"

Johnson's heart was too full for utterance; he could only think of his
own happiness. The next instant the Girl called to Wowkle to bring the
candle, while she, still eager and animated, her eyes bright, her lips
curving in a smile, took up a cigar and handed it to him, saying:

"One o' your real Havanas!"

"But I"--began Johnson, protestingly.

Nevertheless the Girl lit a match for him from the candle which Wowkle
held up to her, and, while the latter returned th