hims essentially worth while. I'll admit I
find mine so. Perhaps you feel the same about yours. One scarcely knows
where egotism and vanity meet or end in a woman." He smiled, for he
meant that to provoke, and it did.

Claire's voice was edged when she replied. "A very penetrating remark.
With men generally, vanity seems to be a widely extended cloak to spread
over all things in a woman that they cannot dispose of in any other way.
If I find you dull, or if I am not struck with your ability, or if you
do not seem to me sufficiently fascinating, I am possessed of feminine
vanity."

"Precisely. And why not? If I choose to regard myself as all those
things which you deny, why shouldn't I find the fault in you rather than
in myself?"

"Because it may be in you," suggested Claire.

"It may, but that doesn't alter the case. I quite agree that you are
right, but none the less you are at fault, because I, Lawrence, am the
most important of all things to me."

She did not answer. The conversation seemed to her useless. She saw no
reason for arguing the matter, and she half suspected that he was simply
teasing her. Besides, she could not but feel that to sit here in his
coat and discuss egotism was a trifle ridiculous. He was merely trying
to establish a friendship in talk which she did not care to encourage.
That was her conclusion.

As he rose to gather more sticks, he asked: "Do you happen to see a rock
that flattens to an edge?"

Told where he might find one, he brought it and struck it hard against
their boulder. It did not break. "It may do," he said thoughtfully, and
began to grind it against the side of the other rock. He worked steadily
and long, and the result was a fairly good edge, which was nicked and
toothed, but still an edge. He laid it down with a sigh of contentment.

"My first tool," he commented.

CHAPTER IV.

MUTUAL DISLIKE.

All day Lawrence worked, and when night came he had hollowed out a piece
of log to a depth of some eighteen inches, leaving six inches of solid
wood in the bottom. Both were very well pleased with the result. With
the coming of darkness, he gathered more berries, and heated water in
his log kettle. They were able to cook the mushrooms and to bind her
ankle in moss soaked in hot water. The building of a shelter was
discussed, but both decided to resume their journey on the following
day, so they slept again in the heavy moss.

In the morning, Claire was glad indeed