ChapterI
　　IThadjuststruckninefromthecuckooclockthathungoverthemantelpieceinthedining—room，whenVictorinebroughtinthehalvedwatermelonandsetitinfrontofMr.Bessemer’splate.
　　Thenshewentdowntothefrontdoorforthedamp，twistedrolloftheSundaymorning’spaper，andcamebackandrangthebreakfast—
　　bellforthesecondtime.
　　Asthefamilystillhesitatedtoappear，shewenttothebaywindowattheendoftheroom，andstoodthereforamomentlookingout.Theviewwaswonderful.TheBessemerslivedupontheWashingtonStreethill，almostatitsverysummit，inaflatinthethirdstoryofthebuilding.Thecontractorhadbeencleverenoughtoreversethepositionofkitchenanddining—room，sothatthelatterroomwasattherearofthehouse.FromitswindowonecouldcommandasweepofSanFranciscoBayandtheContraCostashore，fromMountDiablo，alongpastOakland，Berkeley，Sausalito，andMountTamalpais，outtotheGoldenGate，thePresidio，theocean，andeven——onverycleardays——totheFarralloneislands.
　　ForsometimeVictorinestoodlookingdownatthegreatexpanseoflandandsea，thenfacedaboutwithanimpatientexclamation.
　　OnSundaysalltheweek—dayregimeofthefamilywasderanged，andbreakfastwasamovablefeast，tobehadanytimeaftersevenorbeforehalf—pastnine.AsVictorinewaspouringtheice—water，Mr.Bessemerhimselfcamein，andaddressedhimselfatoncetohismeal，withoutsomuchasathoughtofwaitingfortheothers.
　　Hewasalittleroundman.Heworeaskull—captokeephisbaldspotwarm，andreadhispaperthroughareading—glass.Theexpressionofhisface，wrinkledandbearded，theeyesshadowedbyenormousgrayeyebrows，wasthatofanamiablegorilla.
　　Bessemerwasoneofthosemenwhoseementirelydisassociatedfromtheirfamilies.Onlyonrareandintenseoccasionsdidhispaternalspiritorinstinctsassertthemselves.Attablehetalkedbutlittle.Thoughdevotedlyfondofhiseldestdaughter，shewasapuzzleandastrangertohim.Hisinterestsandherswereabsolutelydissimilar.Thechildrenheseldomspoketobuttoreprove;whileHoward，theson，theten—year—oldandterribleinfantofthehousehold，healwaysreferredtoas"thatboy."
　　Hewasanabstracted，self—centredoldman，withbuttwohobbies——
　　homoeopathyandthemechanismofclocks.Buthehadastrangewayoftalkingtohimselfinalowvoice，keepinguparunning，half—
　　whisperedcommentuponhisowndoingsandactions;as，forinstance，uponthisoccasion："Nineo’clock——theclock’salittlefast.IthinkI’llwindmywatch.No，I’veforgottenmywatch.
　　Watermelonthismorning，eh？Where’saknife？I’llhavealittlesalt.Victorine’sforgotthespoons——ha，here’saspoon！No，it’saknifeIwant."
　　Afterhehadfinishedhiswatermelon，andwhileVictorinewaspouringhiscoffee，thetwochildrencamein，scramblingtotheirplaces，anddrummingonthetablewiththeirknife—handles.
　　Thesonandheir，Howard，wasverymuchaboy.Heplayedbaseballtoowelltobeaverygoodboy，andforthesakeofhisownself—
　　respectmaintainedanattitudeofperpetualrevoltagainsthisoldersister，who，asmuchaspossible，tooktheplaceofthemother，longsincedead.Underhersupervision，Howardblackedhisownshoeseverymorningbeforebreakfast，changedhisunderclothestwiceaweek，andwasdissuadedfromplayingwiththedentist’ssonwholivedthreedoorsbelowandwhohadSt.Vitus’
　　dance.
　　Hislittlesisterwasmuchmoretractable.ShehadbeenchristenedAlberta，andwascalledSnooky.Shepromisedtobeprettywhenshegrewup，butwasatthistimeinthatdistressingtransitionalstagebetweentwelveandfifteen;waslong—legged，andendowedwithalltheawkwardnessofacolt.Hershoeswerestillinnocentofheels;butonthoseoccasionswhenshewasallowedtowearhertinyfirstpairofcorsetsshewasexaltedtoanalmostcelestialpitchofsilentecstasy.Theclaspoftheminiaturestaysaroundhersmallbodywasliketheembraceofalittlelover，andawokeinherideasthatwereasvague，asimmatureandunformedasthestraightlittlefigureitself.
　　WhenSnookyandHowardhadseatedthemselves，butonechair——attheendofthebreakfast—table，oppositeMr.Bessemer——remainedvacant.
　　"Isyoursister——isMissTravisgoingtohaveherbreakfastnow？
　　Isshegotupyet？"inquiredVictorineofHowardandSnooky，asshepushedthecreampitcheroutofHoward’sreach.ItwassignificantofMr.Bessemer’srelationswithhisfamilythatVictorinedidnotaddressherquestiontohim.
　　"Yes，yes，she’scoming，"saidboththechildren，speakingtogether;andHowardadded："Hereshecomesnow."
　　TravisBessemercamein.EveninSanFrancisco，whereallwomenaremoreorlessbeautiful，Travispassedforabeautifulgirl.
　　Shewasyoung，buttallasmostmen，andsolidly，almostheavilybuilt.Hershoulderswerebroad，herchestwasdeep，herneckroundandfirm.Sheradiatedhealth;therewereexuberanceandvitalityintheverytouchofherfootuponthecarpet，andtherewasthatcleanlinessabouther，thatfreshness，thatsuggestedarecentplungeinthesurfanda"constitutional"alongthebeach.
　　Onefeltthatherewasstamina，goodphysicalforce，andfineanimalvigor.Herarmswerelarge，herwristswerelarge，andherfingersdidnottaper.Herhairwasofabrownsolightastobealmostyellow.Infact，itwouldbesafertocallityellowfromthestart——notgoldennorflaxen，butplain，honestyellow.Theskinofherfacewascleanandwhite，exceptwhereitflushedtoamostcharmingpinkuponhersmooth，coolcheeks.Herlipswerefullandred，herchinveryroundandalittlesalient.Curiouslyenough，hereyesweresmall——small，butofthedeepest，deepestbrown，andalwaystwinklingandalight，asthoughshewerejustreadytosmileorhadjustdonesmiling，onecouldnotsaywhich.
　　Andnothingcouldhavebeenmoredelightfulthanthesesloe—brown，glintinglittleeyesofherssetoffbyherwhiteskinandyellowhair.
　　Sheimpressedoneasbeingaverynormalgirl：nothingmorbidabouther，nothingnervousorfalseoroverwrought.Youdidnotexpecttofindherintrospective.Youfeltsurethathermentallifewasnotatalltheresultofthoughtsandreflectionsgerminatingfromwithin，butratherofimpressionsandsensationsthatcametoherfromwithout.TherewasnothingextraordinaryaboutTravis.Sheneverhadhervagaries，wasnotmoody——
　　depressedonedayandexaltedthenext.Shewasjustagood，sweet，natural，healthy—minded，healthy—bodiedgirl，honest，strong，self—reliant，andgood—tempered.
　　Thoughshewasnotyetdressedforchurch，therewasstyleinhertothepointedtipsofherpatent—leatherslippers.Sheworeaheavyblackoverskirtthatrustledindeliciousfashionoverthecoloredsilkskirtbeneath，andawhiteshirt—waist，stripedblack，andstarchedtoarattlingstiffness.Herneckwasswathedtightandhighwithabroadribbonofwhitesatin，whilearoundherwaist，inplaceofabelt，sheworethehugedog—collarofaSt.Bernard——achiclittleideawhichwasallherown，andofwhichshewasveryproud.
　　Shewasastrigandtrimandcrispasacrackyacht：notapinwasloose，notaseamthatdidnotfallinitspreciserightline;andwitheverymovementthereemanatedfromherabarelyperceptibledeliciousfeminineodor——anodorthatwasinpartperfume，butmostlyasubtle，vaguesmell，charmingbeyondwords，thatcamefromherhair，herneck，herarms——herwholesweetpersonality.
　　Shewasnineteenyearsold.
　　Shesatdowntobreakfastandateheartily，thoughwithherattentiondividedbetweenHoward——whowasatrociouslybad，asusualofaSundaymorning——andherfather’splate.Mr.Bessemerwasaslikeasnottoleavethetablewithoutanybreakfastatallunlesshisfruit，chops，andcoffeewereactuallythrustunderhisnose.
　　"Papum，"shecalled，speakingclearanddistinct，asthoughtothedeaf，"there’syourcoffeethereatyourelbow;becareful，you’lltipitover.Victorine，pushhiscupfurtheronthetable.Isitstrongenoughforyou，Papum’"
　　"Eh？Ah，yes——yes——yes，"murmuredtheoldman，lookingvaguelyabouthim;"coffee，tobesure"——andheemptiedthecupatasingledraught，hardlyknowingwhetheritwascoffeeortea."NowI’lltakearoll，"hecontinued，inamonotonousmurmur."Wherearetherolls？Heretheyare.Hotrollsarebadformydigestion——
　　Ioughttoeatbread.IthinkIeattoomuch.Where’smyplaceinthepaper？——alwayslosemyplaceinthepaper.ClevereditorialsthisfellowEastmanwrites，unbiassedbypartyprejudice——unbiassed——unbiassed."Hisvoicediedtoawhisper.
　　Thebreakfastproceeded，Travissupervisingeverythingthatwentforward，evengivingdirectionstoVictorineastothehourforservingdinner.ItwaswhileshewastalkingtoVictorineastothismatterthatSnookybegantowhine.
　　"Stop！"
　　"AndtellMaggie，"pursuedTravis，"tofricasseeherchicken，andnottohaveittoowelldone——"
　　"Sto—o—op！"whinedSnookyagain.
　　"AndleavetheheartoutforPapum.Helikestheheart——"
　　"Sto—o—op！"
　　"Unbiassedbyprejudice，"murmuredMr.Bessemer，"vigorousandtothepoint.I’llhaveanotherroll."
　　"Pa，makeHowardstop！"
　　"Howard！"exclaimedTravis;"whatisitnow？"
　　"Howard’ssquirtingwatermelon—seedsatme，"whinedSnooky，"andPawon’tmakehimstop."
　　"Oh，Ididn’tso！"vociferatedHoward."Ionlyheldonebetweenmyfingers，anditjustkindofshotout."
　　"You’llcomeupstairswithmeinjustfiveminutes，"announcedTravis，"andgetreadyforSunday—school."
　　Howardknewthathisoldersister’sdecisionswereasthelawsofthePersians，andfoundmeanstofinishhisbreakfastwithinthespecifiedtime，thoughnotwithoutprotest.Onceupstairs，however，theusualSundaymorningdramaofdespatchinghimtoSunday—schoolinpresentableconditionwasenacted.Ateverymomenthisvoicecouldbeheardupliftedinshrillexpostulationanddebate.No，hishandswerecleanenough，andhedidn’tseewhyhehadtowearthatlittleoldpinktie;and，oh！hisnewshoesweretootightandhurthissoretoe;andhewouldn’t，hewouldn’t——no，notifhewerekilledforit，changehisshirt.NotforamomentdidTravislosehertemperwithhim.But"verywell，"shedeclaredatlength，"thenexttimeshesawthatlittleMinergirlshewouldtellherthathehadsaidshewashisbeau—
　　heart.NOWwouldheholdstillwhileshebrushedhishair？"
　　AtafewminutesbeforeelevenTravisandherfatherwenttochurch.TheywereEpiscopalians，andfortimeoutofmindhadrentedahalf—pewinthechurchoftheirdenominationonCaliforniaStreet，notfarfromChinatown.Bynoonthefamilyreassembled.atdinner—table，whereMr.Bessemeratehischicken—
　　heart——afterTravishadthriceremindedhimofit——andexpressedhimselfastothesermonandtheminister’stheology：sometimestohisdaughterandsometimestohimself.
　　AfterdinnerHowardandSnookyforegatheredinthenurserywiththeirbelovedleadsoldiers;Traviswenttoherroomtowriteletters;andMr.Bessemersatinthebaywindowofthedining—roomreadingthepaperfromendtoend.
　　AtfiveTravisbestirredherself.ItwasVictorine’safternoonout.Travissetthetable，spreadingacoverofbluedenimedgedwithwhitebraid，whichshowedoffthesilverandthesetofdelft——hergreatandnever—endingjoy——togreateffect.Thenshetiedherapronabouther，andwentintothekitchentomakethemayonnaisedressingforthepotatosalad，toslicetheham，andtohelpthecook（amostinefficientIrishperson，takenononlyforthatmonthduringtheabsenceofthefamily’sbelovedandveneratedSingWo）inthematterofpreparingtheSundayeveningtea.
　　Teawashadathalf—pastfive.Neverinthehistoryofthefamilyhaditsmenuvaried：coldham，potatosalad，porkandbeans，cannedfruit，chocolate，andtheinevitablepitcherofice—water.
　　IntheabsenceofVictorine，Maggiewaitedonthetable，veryuncomfortableinheronegooddressandstiffwhiteapron.Shestoodofffromthetable，makingawkwarddabsatitfromtimetotime.Inherexcessofdeferenceshedevelopedaclumsinessthatwasbeyondallexpression.Shepassedtheplatesuponthewrongside，andrememberedherselfwithabrokenapologyatinopportunemoments.Shedroppedaspoon，shespilledtheice—water.Shehandledthedelftcupsandplatterswithanexaggeratedsolicitude，asthoughtheywereglassbombs.Shebrushedthecrumbsintotheirlapsinsteadofintothecrumb—tray，andatlast，whenshehadsatevenTravis’placidnervesinajangle，wasdismissedtothekitchen，andretiredwithagaspofunspeakablerelief.
　　Suddenlytherecameaprolongedtrillingoftheelectricbell，andHowardflashedagrinatTravis.Snookyjumpedupandpushedback，cryingout："I’llgo！I’llgo！"
　　Mr.BessemerglancednervouslyatTravis."That’sMr.Rivers，isn’tit，daughter？"Travissmiled."Well，IthinkI’ll——IthinkI’dbetter——"hebegan.
　　"No，"saidTravis，"Idon’twantyouto，Papum;yousitrightwhereyouare.Howabsurd！"
　　Theoldmandroppedobedientlybackintohisseat.
　　"That’sallright，Maggie，"saidTravisasthecookreappearedfromthepantry."Snookywent."
　　"Huh！"exclaimedHoward，hisgrinwidening."Huh！"
　　Andrememberonething，Howard，"remarkedTraviscalmly，"don’tyoueveragainaskMr.Riversforanickeltoputinyourbank."
　　Mr.Bessemerrousedup."Didthatboydothat？"heinquiredsharplyofTravis.
　　"Well，well，hewon’tdoitagain，"saidTravissoothingly.TheoldmanglaredforaninstantatHoward，whoshifteduneasilyinhisseat.ButmeanwhileSnookyhadclambereddowntotheoutsidedoor，andbeforeanythingfurthercouldbesaidyoungRiverscameintothedining—room.
　　ChapterII
　　FORsomereason，nevermadesufficientlyclear，Rivers’parentshadhandicappedhimfromthebaptismalfontwiththeprenomenofConde，which，however，uponAnglo—Saxontongues，hadbeenpromptlymodifiedtoCondy，oreven，amonghisfamiliarandintimatefriends，toConny.Askedastohisbirthplace——fornoCalifornianassumesthathisneighborisbornintheState——Condywaswonttoreplythathewas"bawn’n’rais’"inChicago;"but，"healwaysadded，"Icouldn’thelpthat，youknow."HispeoplehadcomeWestintheearlyeighties，justintimetoburythefatherinaliensoil.Condywasanonlychild.HewaseducatedattheStateUniversity，hadafinishingyearatYale，andafewmonthsafterhisreturnhomewastakenonthestaffoftheSanFrancisco"DailyTimes"asanassociateeditorofitsSundaysupplement.ForCondyhaddevelopedatasteandtalentinthematterofwriting.Shortstorieswerehismania.HehadbegunbyaninoculationoftheKiplingvirus，hadsufferedanalmostfatalattackofHardingDavis，andhadevenbeenaffectedbyMaupassant.He"wentin"foraccuracyofdetail;heldthatifonewroteastoryinvolvingfiremenoneshouldhave，orseemtohave，everydetailofthedepartmentathisfingers’ends，andshould"bringin"tothetaleallmanneroftechnicalnamesandcantphrases.
　　MuchofhisworkontheSundaysupplementof"TheTimes"wasofthehackorder——specialarticles，write—ups，andinterviews.
　　Aboutonceamonth，however，hewroteashortstory，andoflate，nowthathewasconvalescingfromMaupassantandhadbeguntobesomewhathimself，thesestorieshadimprovedinquality，andoneortwohadevenbeencopiedintheEasternjournals.Heearned$100amonth.
　　WhenSnookyhadlethimin，RiversdashedupthestairsoftheBessemers’flat，twoatatime，tossedhisstickintoaporcelaincane—rackinthehall，wrenchedoffhisovercoatwithasinglemovement，andprecipitatedhimself，panting，intothedining—room，tuggingathisgloves.
　　Hewastwenty—eightyearsold——nearlytenyearsolderthanTravis;
　　tallandsomewhatlean;hisfacesmooth—shavenandpinkallover，asifhehadjustgivenitaviolentrubbingwithacrashtowel.
　　Unlikemostwritingfolk，hedressedhimselfaccordingtoprevailingcustom.ButCondyoverdidthematter.Hisscarfsandcravatsweretoobright，hiscoloredshirt—bosomsweretoobroadlybarred，hiswaistcoatstooextreme.EvenTravis，assherosetohisabruptentrance？toldherselfthatofaSundayeveningapinkshirtandscarlettiewereacombinationhardlytobeforgiven.
　　Condyshookherhandinbothofhis，thenrushedovertoMr.
　　Bessemer，exclaimingbetweenbreaths："Don’tgetup，sir——don’tTHINKofit！Heavens！I’mdisgustinglylate.You’reallthrough.
　　Mywatch——thisbeastlywatchofmine——Ican’timaginehowIcametobesolate.Youdidquiterightnottowait."
　　ThenashismorbidlykeenobservationcaughtacertainlookofblanknessonTravis’face，andhisrapidglancenotednovacantchairattable，hegaveaquickgaspofdismay.
　　"Heavensandearth！didn’tyouEXPECTme？"hecried."Ithoughtyousaid——Ithought——Imusthaveforgotten——Imusthavegotitmixedupsomehow.Whatahideousmistake，whatablunder！WhatafoolIam！"
　　Hedroppedintoachairagainstthewallandmoppedhisforeheadwithablue—borderedhandkerchief.
　　"Well，whatdifferencedoesitmake，Condy？"saidTravisquietly.
　　"I’llputanotherplaceforyou."
　　"No，no！"hevociferated，jumpingup."Iwon’thearofit，I
　　won’tpermitit！You’llthinkIdiditonpurpose！"
　　Travisignoredhisinterference，andmadeaplaceforhimoppositethechildren，andhadMaggiemakesomemorechocolate.
　　Condymeanwhilecoveredhimselfwithopprobrium.
　　"Andallthistrouble——IalwaysmaketroubleeverywhereIgo.
　　Alwaysaroundmaninasquarehole，orasquaremaninaroundhole."
　　Hegotupandsatdownagain，crossedandrecrossedhislegs，pickeduplittleornamentsfromthemantelpiece，andreplacedthemwithoutconsciousnessofwhattheywere，andfinallybrokethecrystalofhiswatchashewasresettingitbythecuckooclock.
　　"Hello！"heexclaimedsuddenly，"wheredidyougetthatclock？
　　Wheredidyougetthatclock？That’snewtome.Wheredidthatcomefrom？"
　　"Thatcuckooclock？"inquiredTravis，withastare."CondyRivers，you’vebeenhereandinthisroomatleasttwiceaweekforthelastyearandahalf，andthatclock，andnoother，hasalwayshungthere."
　　ButalreadyCondyhadforgottenorlostinterestintheclock.
　　"Isthatso？isthatso？"hemurmuredabsent—mindedly，seatinghimselfatthetable.
　　Mr.Bessemerwasmurmuring："Thatclock’salittlefast.Icannotmakethatclockkeeptime.Victorinehaslostthekey.I
　　havetowinditwithamonkey—wrench.NowI’lltrysomemorebeans.Maggiehasputintoomuchpepper.I’llhavetohaveanewkeymadeto—morrow."
　　"Hey？Yes——yes.Isthatso？"answeredCondyRivers，bewildered，wishingtobepolite，yetunabletofollowtheoldman’smutterings.
　　"He’snottalkingtoyou，"remarkedTravis，withoutloweringhervoice."YouknowhowPapumgoeson.Hewon’thearawordyousay.Well，Ireadyourstoryinthismorning’s’Times.’"
　　Afewmomentslater，whileTraversandCondywerestilldiscussingthisstory，Mr.Bessemerrose."Well，Mr.Rivers，"heannounced，"IguessI’llsaygood—night.Come，Snooky."
　　"Yes，takeherwithyou，Papum，"saidTravis."She’llgotosleepontheloungehereifyoudon’t.Howard，haveyougotyourlessonsforto—morrow？"
　　Itappearedthathehadnot.Snookywhinedtostayupalittlelonger，butatlastconsentedtogowithherfather.TheyallbadeCondygood—nightandtookthemselvesaway，Howardlingeringamomentinthedoorinthehopeofthenickelhedarednotaskfor.
　　Maggiereappearedtoclearawaythetable.
　　"Let’sgointheparlor，"suggestedTravis，rising."Don’tyouwantto？"
　　Theparlorwasthefrontroomoverlookingthestreet，andwasreachedbythelonghallthatranthewholelengthoftheflat，passingbythedoorofeachoneofitseightroomsinturn.
　　TravisprecededCondy，andturneduponeoftheburnersincoloredglobeofthelittlebrasschandelier.
　　Theparlorwasasmallaffair，peopledbyafamilyofchairsandsofasrobedinwhitedrugget.Agold—and—whiteeffecthadbeenstrivenforthroughouttheroom.Thewallshadbeentintedinsteadofpapered，andbunchesofhand—paintedpinkflowerstiedupwithblueribbonsstraggledfromonecorneroftheceiling.
　　AcrossoneangleoftheroomstraddledabrasseaselupholdingacrayonportraitofTravisattheageofnine，"enlargedfromaphotograph."Ayellowdrapeornamentedonecorneroftheframe，whileanotherdrapeofbluedependedfromoneendofthemantelpiece.
　　Thepiano，uponwhichnobodyeverplayed，balancedtheeaselinanoppositecorner.OverthemantelpiecehunginagildedframeasteelengravingofPriscillaandJohnAlden;andonthemantelitselftwobisquefiguresofanItalianfisherboyandgirlkeptcompanywiththeclock，ahugetimepiece，setinaredplushpalette，thatneverwasknowntogo.Butattherightofthefireplace，andbalancingthetuftofpampa—grasstotheleft，wasaninvertedsectionofasewer—pipepaintedblueanddecoratedwithdaisies.Intoitwasthrustasheafofcat—tails，gilded，andtiedwithapinkribbon.
　　Travisdroppedupontheshroudedsofa，andCondysethimselfcarefullydownononeofthefrailchairswithitsspindlinggoldenlegs，andtheybegantotalk.
　　CondyhadtakenhertothetheatretheMondaynightofthatweek，ashadbeenhiscustomeversincehehadknownherwell，andtherewassomethingleftforthemtosayonthatsubject.Butintenminutestheyhadexhaustedit.Anengagementofagirlknowntobothofthemhadjustbeenannounced.Condybroughtthatup，andkeptconversationgoingforanothertwentyminutes，andthenfilledinwhatthreatenedtobeagapbytellingherstoriesofthesocietyreporters，andhowtheygotinsidenewsbylisteningtotelephonepartywiresfordaysatatime.Travis’condemnationofthisoccupiedanotherfiveortenminutes;andsowhatwiththisandwiththattheyreachednineo’clock.Thendecidedlytheeveningbegantodrag.Itwastooearlytogo.Condycouldfindnogoodexcusefortaknghimselfaway，and，thoughTraviswasgood—naturedenough，andmethimmorethanhalf—way，theirtalklapsed，andlapsed，andlapsed.Thebreaksbecamemorenumerousandlastedlonger.Condybegantowonderifhewasboringher.
　　Nosoonerhadthesuspicionenteredhisheadthanithardenedintoacertainty，andatoncewhatlittlefluencyandfreshnessheyetretainedforsookhimonthespot.Whatmademattersworsewashisrecollectionofothereveningsthatoflatehehadfailedinpreciselythesamemanner.EvenwhilehestruggledtosavethesituationCondywaswonderingiftheytwoweretalkedout——iftheyhadlostcharmforeachother.DidhenotknowTravisthroughandthroughbynow——heropinions，herideas，herconvictions？Wasthereanymorefreshnessinherforhim？Wastheirlittleflirtationofthelasteighteenmonths，charmingasithadbeen，abouttoend？Hadtheyplayedouttheplay，hadtheycometotheendofeachother’sresources？Hehadneverconsideredthepossibilityofthisbefore，butallatonceashelookedatTravis——lookedfairlyintoherlittlebrown—blackeyes——itwasborneinuponhimthatshewasthinkingpreciselythesamething.
　　CondyRivershadmetTravisatadanceayearandahalfbeforethis，and，becauseshewassoverypretty，sounaffected，andsogood—natured，hadfoundmeanstoseeherthreeorfourtimesaweekeversince.Theytwo"wentout"notalittleinSanFranciscosociety，andhadbeeninameasureidentifiedwithwhatwasknownastheYoungerSet;thoughTraviswastooyoungtocomeout，andRiverstoooldtofeelverymuchathomewithgirlsoftwentyandboysofeighteen.
　　Theyhadknowneachotherintheconventionalway（asconventionalitygoesinSanFrancisco）;duringtheseasonRiverstookhertothetheatresMondaynights，andcalledregularlyWednesdaysandSundays.Thentheymetatdances，andmanagedtobeinvitedtothesamehousesforteasanddinners.Theyhadflirtedratherdesperately，andattimesCondyeventoldhimselfthathelovedthisgirlsomuchyoungerthanhe——thisgirlwiththesmilingeyesandrobustfigureandyellowhair，whowassofrank，sostraightforward，andsowonderfullypretty.
　　Butevidentlytheyhadcometothelastmoveinthegame，andasCondyreflectedthatafterallhehadneverknowntherealTravis，thatthegirlwhomhetoldhimselfheknewthroughandthroughwasonlytheTravisofdinnerpartiesandafternoonfunctions，hewassuddenlysurprisedtoexperienceasuddenqualmofdeepandgenuineregret.HehadneverbeenNEARtoher，afterall.Theywereasfarapartaswhentheyhadfirstmet.Andyetheknewenoughofhertoknowthatshewas"worthwhile."Hehadhadexperience——alltheexperiencehewanted——withotherolderwomenandgirlsofsociety.Theyweresophisticated，theywereallalittletired，theyhadrunthegamutofamusements——inaword，theywerejaded.ButTravis，thisgirlofnineteen，whowasnotyetevenadebutante，hadbeenfreshandunspoiled，hadbeennewandstrongandyoung.
　　"Ofcourse，youmaycallitwhatyoulike.Hewasnothingmorenorlessthanintoxicated——yes，drunk."
　　"Hah！who——what——wh——whatareyoutalkingabout？"gaspedCondysittingboltupright.
　　"JackCarter，"answeredTravis."No，"sheadded.shakingherheadathimhelplessly，"hehasn’tbeenlisteningtoaword.I’mtalkingaboutJackCarterandthe’SaturdayEvening’lastnight."
　　"No，no，Ihaven’theard.Forgiveme;Iwasthinking——thinkingofsomethingelse.Whowasdrunk？"
　　Travispausedamoment，settlingherside—combsinherhair;then：
　　"Ifyouwilltrytolisten，I’lltellitalloveragain，becauseit’sseriouswithme，andI’mgoingtotakeaverydecidedstandaboutit.Youknow，"shewenton——"youknowwhatthe’SaturdayEvening’is.Plentyofthegirlswhoarenot’out’belong，andagoodmanyoflastyear’sdebutantescome，aswellastheoldergirlsofthreeorfourseasons’standing.Youcouldcallitrepresentativecouldn’tyou？Well，theyalwaysservepunch;andyouknowyourselfthatyouhaveseenmentherewhohavetakenmorethantheyshould."
　　"Yes，yes，"admittedCondy."IknowCarterandthetwoCatlinboysalwaysdo."
　　"Itgetsprettybadsometimes，doesn’tit？"shesaid.
　　"Itdoes，itdoes——andit’sshameful.Butmostofthegirls——
　　MOSTofthemdon’tseemtomind."
　　MissBessemerstiffenedabit."Thereareoneortwogirlsthatdo，"shesaidquietly."FrankCatlinhadthedecencytogohomelastnight，"shecontinued;"andhisbrotherwasn’tanyworsethanusual.ButJackCartermusthavebeendrinkingbeforehecame.
　　Hewasverybadindeed——asbad，"shesaidbetweenherteeth，"ashecouldbeandyetwalkstraight.Asyousay，mostofthegirlsdon’tmind.Theysay，’It’sonlyJohnnieCarter;whatdoyouexpect？’Butoneofthegirls——youknowher，LaurieFlagg——cutadancewithhimlastnightandtoldhimexactlywhy.Ofcourse，Carterwasfurious.Hewassoberenoughtothinkhehadbeeninsulted;andwhatdoyousupposehedid？"
　　"What？what？"exclaimedCondy，breathless，leaningtowardher.
　　"Wentaboutthehallsanddressing—roomscirculatingsomedirtylittlelieaboutLaurie.Actuallytryingto——to"——Travishesitated——"tomakeascandalabouther."
　　Condyboundedinhisseat."Beast，cad，swine！"heexclaimed.
　　"Ididn’tthink，"saidTravis，"thatCarterwouldsomuchasdaretoaskmetodancewithhim——"
　　"Didhe？did——did——"
　　"Wait，"sheinterrupted."SoIwasn’tatallpreparedforwhathappened.Duringthegerman，beforeIknewit，therehewasinfrontofme.Itwasabreak，andhewantedit.Ihadn’ttimetothink.TheonlyideaIhadwasthatifIrefusedhimhemighttellsomedirtylittlelieaboutme.Iwasallconfused——mixedup.IfeltjustasthoughitwereasnakethatIhadtohumortogetridof.Igavehimthebreak."
　　Condysatspeechless.Suddenlyhearose.
　　"Well，now，let’ssee，"hebegan，speakingrapidly，hishandstwistinganduntwistingtilltheknucklescracked."Now，let’ssee.Youleaveittome.IknowCarter.He’sgoingtobeatastagdinnerwhereIaminvitedto—morrownight，andI——I——"
　　"No，youwon’t，Condy，"saidTravisplacidly."You’llpaynoattentiontoit，andI’lltellyouwhy.SupposeyoushouldmakeascenewithMr.Carter——Idon’tknowhowmensettlethesethings.
　　Well，itwouldbetoldinalltheclubsandinallthenewspaperofficesthattwomenhadquarreledoveragirl;andmynameismentioned，discussed，andhandedaroundfromonecrowdofmentoanother，fromoneclubtoanother;andthen，ofcourse，thepaperstakeitup.BythattimeMr.Carterwillhavetoldhissideofthestoryandinventedanotherdirtylittlelie，andI’mtheonewhosuffersthemostintheend.Andremember，Condy，thatI
　　haven’tanymotherinsuchanaffair，notevenanoldersister.
　　No，we’lljustletthematterdrop.Itwouldbemoredignified，anyhow.OnlyIhavemadeupmymindwhatIamgoingtodo."
　　"What’sthat？"
　　"I’mnotcomingout.Ifthat’sthesortofthingonehastoputupwithinsociety"——Travisdrewalittlelineonthesofaathersidewithherfinger—tip——"Iamgoingto——stop——right——there.
　　It’snot"——MissBessemerstiffenedagain——"thatI’mafraidofJackCarterandhisdirtystories;Isimplydon’twanttoknowthekindofpeoplewhohavemadeJackCarterpossible.Theothergirlsdon’tmindit，normanymenbesidesyou，Condy;andI’mnotgoingtobeassociatedwithpeoplewhotakeitasajokeforamantocometoafunctiondrunk.Andasforhavingagoodtime，I’llfindmyamusementssomewhereelse.I’llrideawheel，takelongwalks，studysomething.Butasforleadingthelifeofasocietygirl——no！AndwhetherIhaveagoodtimeornot，I’llkeepmyownself—respect.AtleastI’llneverhavetodancewithadrunkenman.Iwon’thavetohumiliatemyselflikethatasecondtime."
　　"ButIpresumeyouwillstillcontinuetogooutsomewhere，"
　　protestedCondyRivers.
　　Sheshookherhead.
　　"Ihavethoughtitallover，andI’vetalkedaboutitwithPapum.
　　There’snohalfwayaboutit.Theonlywaytostopistostopshort.JustthisafternoonI’veregrettedthreefunctionsfornextweek，andIshallresignfromthe’SaturdayEvening.’Oh，it’snottheJackCarteraffairalone！"sheexclaimed;"thewholethingtiresme.Mind，Condy，"sheexclaimed，"I’mnotgoingtobreakwithitbecauseIhaveany’purposeinlife，’orthatsortofthing.Iwanttohaveagoodtime，andI’mgoingtoseeifI
　　can’thaveitinmyownway.IfthekindofthingthatmakesJackCarterpossibleisconventionality，thenI’mdonewithconventionalityforgood.Iamgoingtotry，fromthistimeon，tobejustastruetomyselfasIcanbe.Iamgoingtobesincere，andnotpretendtolikepeopleandthingsthatIdon’tlike;andI’mgoingtodothethingsthatIliketodo——justsolongastheyarethethingsagoodgirlcando.See，Condy？"
　　"You’refine，"murmuredCondybreathless."You’refineasgold，Travis，andI——Iloveyouallthebetterforit."
　　"Ah，NOW！"exclaimedTravis，withabrusquemovement，"there’smotherthingwemusttalkabout.Nomorefoolishnessbetweenus.
　　We’vehadajollylittleflirtation，Iknow，andit’sbeengoodfunwhileitlasted.Iknowyoulikeme，andyouknowthatIlikeyou;butasforlovingeachother，youknowwedon’t.Yes，yousaythatyoulovemeandthatI’mtheonlygirl.That’spartofthegame.Icanplayit"——herlittleeyesbegantodance——"quiteaswellasyou.Butit’splayingwithsomethingthat’squitetooserioustobeplayedwith——afterall，isn’tit，now？It’sinsincere，and，asItellyou，fromnowonI’mgoingtobeastrueandassincereandashonestasIcan."
　　"ButItellyouthatIDOloveyou，"protestedCondy，tryingtomakethewordsringtrue.
　　Travislookedabouttheroomaninstantasifindeliberation;
　　thenabruptly："Ah！whatamIgoingtoDOwithsuchaboyasyouare，afterall——agreatbig，overgrownboy？CondyRivers，lookatmestraightintheeye.Tellme，doyouhonestlyloveme？YouknowwhatImeanwhenIsay’love.’Doyouloveme？"
　　"No，Idon’t！"heexclaimedblankly，asthoughhehadjustdiscoveredthefact.
　　"There！"declaredTravis——"andIdon’tloveyou."Theybothbegantolaugh.
　　"Now，"addedTravis，"wedon’tneedtohavetheburdenandtroubleofkeepingupthepretencesanymore.Weunderstandeachother，don’twe？"
　　"Thisisqueerenough，"saidCondydrolly.
　　"Butisn’titanimprovement？"
　　Condyscouredhishead.
　　"Tellmethetruth，"sheinsisted;"YOUbesincere."
　　"Idobelieveitis.Why——why——TravisbyJingo！Travis，IthinkI’mgoingtolikeyoubetterthanevernow."
　　"Nevermind.Isitanagreement？"
　　"Whatis？"
　　"Thatwedon’tpretendtoloveeachotheranymore？"
　　"Allright——yes——you’reright;becausethemomentIbegantoloveyouIshouldlikeyousomuchless."
　　Sheputoutherhand."That’sanagreement，then."
　　Condytookherhandinhis."Yes，it’sanagreement."Butwhen，ashadbeenhiscustom，hemadeasthoughtokissherhand，Travisdrewitquicklyaway.
　　"No！no！"shesaidfirmly，smilingforallthat——"nomorefoolishness."
　　"But——but，"heprotested，"it’snotsoradicalasthat，isit？
　　You’renotgoingtooverturnsuchtime—worn，time—honoredcustomsasthat？Why，thisisaregularrebellion."
　　"No，sire，"quotedTravis，tryingnottolaugh，"itisarevolution."
　　ChapterIII
　　AlthoughMondaywaspracticallyaholidayfortheSunday—
　　supplementstaffof"TheTimes，"CondyRiversmadeapointtogetdowntotheofficebetimesthenextmorning.Therewerereasonswhyacertainarticledescriptiveofagreatwhalebacksteamertakingongrainforfamine—strickenIndiashouldbewrittenthatday，andRiverswantedhisafternoonfreeinordertogotoLaurieFlagg’scoming—outtea.
　　Butashecameintohisroomat"TheTimes"office，whichhesharedwiththeexchangeandsportingeditors，andsettledhimselfathisdesk，hesuddenlyrememberedthat，undertheneworderofthings，heneednotexpecttoseeTravisattheFlaggs’.
　　"Well，"hemuttered，"maybeitdoesn’tmakesomuchdifference，afterall.Shewasacorkingfinegirl，but——mightaswelladmitit——theplayisplayedout.Ofcourse，Idon’tloveher——anymorewhanshelovesme.I’llseelessandlessofhernow.It’sinevitable，andafterawhilewe’llhardlyevenmeet.Inaway，it’sapity;but，ofcourse，onehastobesensibleaboutthesethingsWell，thiswhalebacknow."
　　HeranguptheChamberofCommerce，andfoundoutthatthe"CityofEverett，"whichwasthewhaleback’sname，wasattheMissionStreetwharf.Thismadeitpossibleforhimtowritethearticleintwoways.Heeithercouldfakehiscopyfromaclippingonthesubjectwhichtheexchangeeditorhadlaidonhisdesk，orhecouldgodowninpersontothewharf，interviewthecaptain，andinspectthecraftforhimself.Theformerwastheshortandeasymethod.Thelatterwasmoretroublesome，butwouldresultinafarmoreinterestingarticle.
　　Condydebatedthesubjectafewminutes，thendecidedtogodowntothewharf.SanFrancisco’swater—frontwasalwaysinteresting，andhemightgetholdofaphotographofthewhaleback.Allatoncethe"idea"ofthearticlestruckhim，thecertainunderlyingnotionthatwouldgiveimportanceandweighttothemeredetailsanddescriptions.Condy’senthusiasmflaredupinaninstant.
　　"ByJove！"heexclaimed;"byJove！"
　　Heclappedonhishatwrongsideforemost，crammedasheafofcopy—paperintohispocket，andwasonthestreetagaininanothermoment.Thenitoccurredtohimthathehadforgottentocallathisclubthatmorningforhismail，aswashiscustom，onthewaytotheoffice.Helookedathiswatch.Itwasearlyyet，andhisclubwasbuttwoblocks’distance.Hedecidedthathewouldgethislettersattheclub，andreadthemonthewaydowntothewharf.
　　ForCondyhadjoinedacertainSanFranciscoclubofartists，journalists，musicians，andprofessionalmenthatisoneoftheinstitutionsofthecity，and，infact，famousthroughouttheUnitedStates.Hewasoneoftheyoungermembers，butwaspopularandwellliked，andonmorethanoneoccasionhadmateriallycontributedtothefunoftheclub’s"lowjinks."
　　Inhisboxthismorninghefoundoneletterthathetoldhimselfhemustreadupontheinstant.ItboreupontheenvelopethenameofaNewYorkpublishinghousetowhomCondyhadsentacollectionofhisshortstoriesaboutamonthbefore.Hetooktheletterintothe"roundwindow"oftheclub，overlookingthestreet，andtoreitopenexcitedly.Thefactthathehadreceivedaletterfromthefirmwithoutthereturnofhismanuscriptseemedagoodomen.Thiswaswhatheread：
　　CondeRivers，Esq.，BohemianClub，SanFrancisco，Cal.
　　DEARSIR：Wereturntoyoubythismailthemanuscriptofyourstories，whichwedonotconsiderasavailableforpublicationatthepresentmoment.Wewouldsay，however，thatwefindinseveralofthemindicationsofaquiteunusualorderofmerit.
　　Thebest—sellingbookjustnowistheshortnovel——saythirtythousandwords——ofactionandadventure.Judgingfromthestoriesofyourcollection，wesuspectthatyourtalentliesinthisdirection，andwewouldsuggestthatyouwritesuchanovelandsubmitthesametous.
　　Veryrespectfully，THECENTENNIALCO.，NewYork.
　　Condyshovedtheletterintohispocketandcollapsedlimplyintohischair.
　　"What’sthegoodoftryingtodoanythinganyhow！"hemuttered，lookinggloomilydownintothestreet."Mylevelisjustthehack—workofalocalSundaysupplement，andIamafooltothinkofanythingelse."
　　Hisenthusiasminthematterofthe"CityofEverett"wascoldanddeadinamoment.Hecouldseenopossibilitiesinthesubjectwhatever.His"idea"ofafewminutespreviousseemedridiculousandoverwrought.Hewouldgobacktotheofficeandgrindouthiscopyfromtheexchangeeditor’sclipping.
　　Justthenhiseyewascaughtbyafamiliarfigureintrim，well—
　　fittingblackhaltedontheoppositecornerwaitingforthepassageofacablecar.ItwasTravisBessemer.Noonebutshecouldcarryoffsuchrigoroussimplicityinthematterofdresssowell：blackskirt，blackRussianblouse，tinyblackbonnetandblackveil，whitekidswithblackstitching.Simplicityitself.
　　Yetthestyleofher，asCondyRiverstoldhimself，flewupandhityouintheface;andherfigure——wasthereanythingmoreperfect？andthesoftprettyeffectofheryellowhairseenthroughtheveil——couldanythingbemorefetching？andhersmartcarriageandtheflingofherfinebroadshoulders，and——no，itwasnouse;Condyhadtorundowntospeaktoher.
　　"Come，come！"shesaidashepretendedtojostleagainstheronthecurbstonewithoutnoticingher;"youhadbestgotowork.
　　Loafingatteno’clockonthestreetcorners——theidea！"
　　"ItISnot——itcannotbe——andyetitis——itisSHE，"heburlesqued;"andafteralltheseyears！"Theninhisnaturalvoice："HelloT.B."
　　"Hello，C.R."
　　"Whereareyougoing？’
　　"Home.I’vejustrundownforhalfanhourtohavetheheadofmybanjotightened."
　　"IfIputyouonthecar，willyouexpectmetopayyourcar—
　　fare？"
　　CondyRivers，I’velongsincegotovertheideaofeverexpectingyoutohaveanychangeconcealedaboutyourperson."
　　"Huh！no，itallgoesfortheatretickets，andflowers，andboxesofcandyforacertaingirlIknow.But"——andheglaredathersignificantly——"nomorefoolishness."
　　Shelaughed."Whatareyou’on’thismorning，Condy？"
　　CondytoldherastheystartedtowalktowardKearneyStreet.
　　ButwhyDON’Tyougotothedockandseethevessel，ifyoucanmakeabetterarticlethatway？"
　　"Oh，what’sthegood！TheCentennialpeoplehaveturneddownmystories."
　　Shecommiseratedhimforthis;thensuddenlyexclaimed：
　　"No，youmustgodowntothedock！Yououghtto，CondyOh，Itellyou，letmegodownwithyou！"
　　InaninstantCondyleapedtothenotion."Splendid！splendid！noreasonwhyyoushouldn’t！"heexclaimed.Andwithinfifteenminutesthetwoweretreadingthewharvesandquaysofthecity’swater—front.
　　Shipsinnumerablenuzzledattheendlesslineofdocks，mastoverspiringmast，andbowspritoverlappingbowsprit，tilltheeyewasbewildered，asifbytheconfusionofbranchesinaleaflessforest.Inthedistancethemassofriggingresolveditselfintoasolidgraybluragainstthesky.Thegreathulks，greenandblackandslategray，laidthemselvesalongthedocks，strainingleisurelyattheirmammothchains，theirflanksopened，theircargoes，asitweretheirentrails，spewedoutinawilddisarrayofcrateandbaleandbox.Sailorsandstevedoresswarmedthemlikevermin.Trucksrolledalongthewharveslikepealsofordnance，thehorse—hoofsbeatingtheboardslikeheavydrum—taps.
　　Chainsclanked，aship’sdogbarkedincessantlyfromacompanionway，ropescreakedincomplainingpulleys，blocksrattled，hoisting—enginescoughedandstrangled，whilealltheairwasredolentofoakum，ofpitch，ofpaint，ofspices，ofripefruit，ofcleancoollumber，ofcoffee，oftar，ofbilge，andthebrisk，nimbleodorofthesea.
　　Traviswasdelighted，herlittlebrowneyessnapping，hercheeksflushing，asshedrankinthescene.
　　"Tothink，"shecried，"wherealltheseshipshavecomefrom！Lookattheirnames;aren’ttheyperfect？Justthenames，see：the’MaryBaker，’Hull;andthe’Anandale，’Liverpool;andthe’TwoSisters，’Calcutta，andseethatonethey’recalking，the’Montevideo，’Callao;andthere，look！look！theveryoneyou’relookingfor，the’CityofEverett，’SanFrancisco."
　　Thewhaleback，animmensetubeofsteelplates，layatherwharf，suckinginentireharvestsofwheatfromtheSanJoaquinvalley——
　　harveststhatweretofeedstrangelycladskeletonsonthesouthernslopesoftheHimalayafoot—hills.TravisandCondyedgedtheirwayamongpilesofwheat—bags，dodgingdraysandrumblingtrucks，andfinallybroughtupattheaftergangplank，whereasailorhaltedthem.Condyexhibitedhisreporter’sbadge.
　　"Irepresent’TheTimes，’"hesaid，withprofoundsolemnity，"andIwanttoseetheofficerincharge."
　　Thesailorfellbackupontheinstant.
　　"Powerofthepress，"whisperedCondytoTravisasthetwogainedthedeck.
　　Asecondsailordirectedthemtothemate，whomtheyfoundinthechart—room，engaged，singularlyenough，intrimmingtheleavesofascragglygeranium.
　　Condyexplainedhismissionwithflatteringallusionstothewhalebackandthenoveltyoftheconstruction.Themate——anoldmanwithapatriarchalbeard——softenedatonce，askedthemintohisowncabinaft，andevenbroughtoutacamp—stoolforTravis，brushingitwithhissleevebeforesettingitdown.
　　WhileCondywasinterviewingtheoldfellow，Traviswasexamining，withtheinterestofachild，thedetailsofthecabin：therack—
　　likebunk，thewashstand，ingeniouslyconstructedsoastoshutintothebulkheadwhennotinuse，thealarm—clockscrewedtothewall，andthearrayofphotographsthrustintothemirrorbetweenframeandglass.One，anolddaguerreotype，particularlycaughtherfancy.Itwastheportraitofaverybeautifulgirl，wearingtheold—fashionedsidecurlsandhighcombofahalf—centuryprevious.Theoldmatenoticedtheattentionshepaidtoit，and，assoonashehaddonegivinginformationtoCondy，turnedandnoddedtoTravis，andsaidquietly："Shewaspretty，wasn’tshe？"
　　"Oh，very！answeredTravis，withoutlookingaway.
　　Therewasasilence.Thenthemate，hiseyeswideandthoughtful，saidwithalongbreath：
　　"Andshewasjustaboutyourage，miss，whenIsawher;andyoufavorher，too."
　　CondyandTravisheldtheirbreathsinattention.Thereinthecabinofthatcuriousnondescriptwhalebacktheyhadcomesuddenlytotheedgeofaromance——aromancethathadbeenlivedthroughbeforetheywereborn.ThenTravissaidinalowvoice，andsweetly"Shedied？"
　　"BeforeIeverseteyesonher，miss.Thatis，MAYBEshedied.I
　　sometimesthink——factis，Ireallybelieveshe’saliveyet，andwaitingforme."Hehesitatedawkwardly."Idunno，"hesaidpullinghisbeard."Idon’tusuallytellthatstorytostrangefolk，butyouremindmesoofherthatIguessIwill."
　　Condysatdownontheedgeofthebunk，andthemateseatedhimselfontheplushsettleoppositethedoor，hiselbowsonhisknees，hiseyesfixedonapatchofbrightsunlightuponthedeckoutside.
　　"Ibeganlife，"hesaid，"asadeep—seadiver——beganprettyyoung，too.IfirstputonthearmorwhenIwastwenty，nothingbutalad;butIcouldtakethepressureuptoseventypoundseventhen.
　　OneofmyveryfirstdiveswasoffTrincomalee，onthecoastofCeylon.Amailpackethadgonedowninasquallwithallonboard.Sixofthebodieshadcomeupandhadbeenrecovered，buttheseventhhadn’t.Itwasthebodyofthedaughterofthegovernoroftheisland，abeautifulyounggirlofnineteen，whomeverybodyloved.Iwassentfortogodownandbringthebodyup.
　　Well，Iwentdown.Thepacketlayinahundredfeetofwater，andthat’sawonderdeepdive.Ihadtogodowntwice.ThefirsttimeIcouldn’tfindanything，thoughIwentallthroughtheberth—deck.Icameuptothewrecking—floatandreportedthatI
　　hadseennothing.Therewerealotofmentherebelongingtothewreckinggang，andsomecorrespondentsofLondonpapers.Buttheywouldhaveitthatshewasbelow，andhadmegodownagain.I
　　did，andthistimeIfoundher."
　　Thematepausedamoment"I’llhavetotellyou，"hewenton，"thatwhenabodydon’tcometothesurfaceitwillstandorsitinaperfectlynaturalpositionuntilacurrentormovementofthewateraroundtouchesit.Whenthathappens——well，you’dsaythebodywasalive;andolddivershaveasuperstition——no，itAIN’Tjustasuperstition，Ibelieveit’sso——thatdrownedpeoplereallydon’tdietilltheycometothesurface，andtheairtouchesthem.Wesaythatthedrownedwhodon’tcomeupstillhavesomesortoflifeoftheirownwaydownthereinallthatgreenwatersomekindoflifesurelysurely.WhenIwentdownthesecondtime，IcameacrossthedoorofwhatIthoughtatfirstwasthelinen—closet.
　　Butitturnedouttobealittlestateroom.Iopenedit.Therewasthegirl.Shewassittingonthesofaoppositethedoor，withalittlehatonherhead，andholdingasatchelinherlap，justasifshewasreadytogoashore.Hereyeswerewideopen，andshewaslookingrightatmeandsmiling.Itdidn’tseemterribleorghastlyintheleast.Sheseemedverysweet.WhenIopenedthedooritsetthewaterinmotion，andshegotupanddroppedthesatchel，andcametowardmesmilingandholdingoutherarms.
　　"Isteppedbackquickandshutthedoor，andsatdowninoneofthesaloonchairstofetchmybreath，forithadgivenmeastart.
　　Thenextthingtodowastosendherup.ButIbegantothink.
　　Sheseemedsoprettyasshewas.Whatwastheuseofbringingherup——upthereonthewreckingfloatwiththatcrowdofmen——upwheretheairwouldgetather，andwheretheywouldputherinthegroundalongo’theworms？IfIleftherthereshe’dalwaysbesweetandpretty——alwaysbenineteen;andIrememberedwhatolddiverssaidaboutdrownedpeoplelivingjustsolongastheystayedbelow.Yousee，Iwasonlyaladthen，andthingslikethatimpressyouwhenyou’reyoung.Well，Isignaledtobehauledup.TheyaskedmeonthefloatifI’dseenanything，andIsaidno.Thatwasalltherewastotheaffair.Theyneverraisedtheship，andinalittlewhileitwasallforgotten.
　　"ButIneverforgotit，andIalwaysrememberedher，waydownthereinallthatstillgreenwater，waitingthereinthatlittlestate—roomformetocomebackandopenthedoor.AndI’vegrowedtobeanoldmanrememberingher;butshe’salwaysstayedjustasshewasthefirstdayIsawher，whenshecametowardmesmilingandholdingoutherarms.She’salwaysstayedyoungandfreshandpretty.Ineversawherbutthatonce.OnlyafterwardIgotherpicturefromanativewomanofTrincomaleewhowashouse—keeperattheResidencywherethegovernoroftheislandlived.SomehowI
　　nevercouldcareforotherwomenafterthat，andIain’tnevermarriedforthatreason."
　　"No，no，ofcoursenot！exclaimedTravis，inalowvoiceastheoldfellowpaused.
　　"Fine，fine;oh，fineasgold！"murmuredCondy，underhisbreath.
　　"Well，"saidthemate，gettingupandrubbinghisknee，"that’sthestory.Nowyouknowallaboutthatpicture.WillyouhaveaglassofMadeira，miss？"
　　HegotoutabottleofwinebearingthegenuineFunchallabelandfilledthreetinyglasses.Travispushedupherveil，andsheandCondyrose.
　　"ThisistoHER，"saidTravisgravely.
　　"Thankyou，miss，"answeredthemate，andthethreedrankinsilence.
　　AsTravisandCondyweregoingdownthegangplanktheymetthecaptainofthewhalebackcomingup.
　　"IsawyouintheretalkingtooldMcPherson，"heexplained."Didyougetwhatyouwantedfromhim？"
　　"More，more！"exclaimedCondy.
　　"Myhandinthefire，hetoldyouthatyarnaboutthegirlwhowasdrownedoffTrincomalee.Ofcourse，Iknewit.Theoldboy’switsareturnedonthatsubject.HeWILLhaveitthatthebodyhasn’tdecomposedinallthistime.Goodseamanenough，andafirst—classnavigator，buthe’ssoftinthatonespot."
　　ChapterIV
　　"Oh，buttheSTORYofit！"exclaimedCondyasheandTravisregainedthewharf——"thestoryofit！Isn’titaripper.Isn’titacorker！Hisleavingherthatway，andnevercaringforanyothergirlafterward."
　　"Andsooriginal，"shecommented，quiteasenthusiasticashe.
　　"Original？——why，it’snewaspaint！It’s——it’s——Travis，I’llmakeastoryoutofthisthatwillbecopiedineverypaperbetweenthetwooceans."
　　Theyweresointerestedinthemate’sstorythattheyforgottotakeacar，andwalkedupClayStreettalkingitover，suggesting，rearranging，andembellishing;andCondywasastonishedanddelightedtonotethatshe"caughton"totheideaasquicklyashe，andknewthetellingpointsandwhatdetailstoleaveout.
　　"AndI’llmakeabang—uparticleoutofthewhalebackherself，"
　　declaredCondy.The"idea"ofthearticlehadreturnedtohim，andallhisenthusiasmwithit.
　　"Andlookhere，hesaid，showinghertheletterfromtheCentennialCompany."Theyturneddownmybook，butseewhattheysay.
　　"Quiteanunusualorderofmerit！"criedTravis."Why，that’sfine！Whydidn’tyoushowthistomebefore？——andaskingyoulikethistowritethemanovelofadventure！WhatMOREcanyouwant？
　　Oh！"sheexclaimedimpatiently，"that’ssolikeyou;youwouldtelleverybodyaboutyourreverses，andcarryonaboutthemyourself，butneversayawordwhenyougetalittleboom.Haveyouanideaforathirty—thousand—wordnovel？Wouldn’tthatdiver’sstorydo？"
　　"No，there’snotenoughinthatforthirtythousandwords.I
　　haven’tanyideaatall——neverwroteastoryofadventure——neverwroteanythinglongerthansixthousandwords.ButI’llkeepmyeyeopenforsomethingthatwilldo.Bytheway——byJove！Travis，wherearewe？"
　　Theylookedbrisklyaroundthem，andthebustling，breezywater—
　　frontfadedfromtheirrecollections.Theywereinaworldofnarrowstreets，ofgalleriesandoverhangingbalconies.Crazieststructures，riddledandhoneycombedwithstairwaysandpassages，shutoutthesky，thoughhereandthereroseabuildingofextraordinaryrichnessandmostelaborateornamentation.Colorwaseverywhere.Athousandlittlenotesofgreenandyellow，ofvermilionandskyblue，assaultedtheeye.Hereitwasadoorway，hereavividglintofclothorhanging，hereahugescarletsignletteredwithgold，andhereakaleidoscopiceffectinthegarmentsofapasser—by.Directlyopposite，andtwostoriesabovetheirheads，asortofhuge"loggia，"oneblazeofgildingandcrudevermilions，openedinthegraycementofacrumblingfacade，likeasuddenburstofflame.Giganticpot—belliedlanternsofredandgoldswungfromitsceiling，whilealongitsrailingstoodarowofpots——brass，ruddybronze，andblueporcelain——fromwhichweregrowingredsaffron，purple，pink，andgoldentulipswithoutnumber.Theairwasvibrantwithunfamiliarnoises.Fromoneofthebalconiesnearathand，thoughunseen，agong，apipe，andsomekindofstringedinstrumentwailedandthunderedinunison.
　　Therewasavastshufflingofpaddedsolesandacontinuousinterchangeofsingsongmonosyllables，high—pitchedandstaccato，whilefromeveryhandrosethestrangearomasoftheEast——
　　sandalwood，punk，incense，oil，andthesmellofmysteriouscookery.
　　"Chinatown！"exclaimedTravis."Ihadn’tthefaintestideawehadcomeupsofar.CondyRivers，doyouknowwhattimeitis？"Shepointedawhitekidfingerthroughthedoorwayofadrug—store，where，amidlacquerboxesandbronzeurnsofherbsanddriedseeds，aroundSethThomasmarkedhalf—pasttwo.
　　"Andyourlunch？"criedCondy."Greatheavens！Ineverthought."
　　"It’stoolatetogetanyathome.Nevermind;I’llgosomewhereandhaveacupoftea."
　　"WhynotgetapackageofChinesetea，nowthatyou’redownhere，andtakeithomewithyou？"
　　"Ordrinkithere."
　　"Where？"
　　"Inoneoftherestaurants.Therewouldn’tbeasoulthereatthishour.Iknowtheyserveteaanytime.Condy，let’stryit.
　　Wouldn’titbefun？"
　　Condysmotehisthigh."Fun！"hevociferated;"fun！Itis——byJove——itwouldbeHEAVENLY！Waitamoment.I’lltellyouwhatwewilldo.Teawon’tbeenough.We’llgodowntoKearneyStreet，ortothemarket，andgetsomecrackerstogowithit."
　　TheyhurriedbacktotheCaliforniamarket，afewblocksdistant，andboughtsomecrackersandawedgeofnewcheese.OnthewaybacktoChinatownTravisstoppedatamusicstoreonKearneyStreettogetherbanjo，whichshehadlefttohaveitsheadtightened;andthusburdenedtheyregainedthe"town，"Condygrievingaudiblyathavingtocarry"brown—paperbundlesthroughthestreet."
　　"Firstcatchyourrestaurant，"saidTravisastheyturnedintoDupontStreetwithitsthrongingcooliesandswarming，gaylycladchildren.Buttheyhadnotfartoseek.
　　"Hereyouare！"suddenlyexclaimedCondy，haltinginfrontofawholesaletea—housebearingasigninChineseandEnglish."Comeon，Travis！"
　　Theyascendedtwoflightsofabroad，brass—boundstaircaseleadingupfromthegroundfloor，andgainedtherestaurantonthetopstoryofthebuilding.AsTravishadforetold，itwasdeserted.Sheclaspedherglovedhandsgayly，crying："Isn’titdelightful！We’vethewholeplacetoourselves."
　　Therestaurantranthewholedepthofthebuilding，andwasfinishedoffateitherextremitywithagildedbalcony，oneoverlookingDupontStreetandtheothertheoldPlaza.Enormousscreensofgildedebony，intricatelycarvedandsetwithcoloredglasspanes，dividedtheroomintothree，andoneofthesedivisions，intherearpart，fromwhichtheycouldstepoutuponthebalconythatcommandedtheviewofthePlaza，theyelectedastheirown.
　　Itwascharming.Attheirbackstheyhadthehuge，fantasticscreen，braveandfinewithitscoatofgold.Infront，throughtheglass—panedvalvesofapairoffoldingdoors，theycouldseetheroofsofthehousesbeyondthePlaza，andbeyondthesetheblueofthebaywithitsanchoredships，andevenbeyondthisthefaintpurpleoftheOaklandshore.Oneithersideofthesedoors，indeepalcoves，weredivanswithmattingsandhead—restsforopiumsmokers.ThewallswerepaintedblueandhungwithverticalCantoneselegendsinredandsilver，whileallaroundthesidesoftheroomsmallebonytablesalternatedwithebonystools，eachinlaidwithaslabofmottledmarble.Achandelier，alla—glitterwithtinsel，swungfromthecentreoftheceilingoverahugeroundtableofmahogany.
　　Andnotasoulwastheretodisturbthem.Belowthem，outtherearoundtheoldPlaza，thecitydrummedthroughitsworkwithalazy，soothingrumble.Nearerathand，ChinatownsentupthevaguemurmurofthelifeoftheOrient.InthedirectionoftheMexicanquarter，thebellofthecathedralknolledatintervals.
　　Theskywaswithoutacloudandtheafternoonwaswarm.
　　Condywasinarticulatewiththejoyofwhathecalledtheir"discovery."Hegotupandsatdown.Hewentoutintotheotherroomandcamebackagain.Hedraggedupacoupleofthemarble—
　　seatedstoolstothetable.Hetookoffhishat，lightedacigarette，letitgoout，lighteditagain，andburnedhisfingers.Heopenedandclosedthefolding—doors，pushedthetableintoabetterlight，andfinallybroughtTravisoutuponthebalconytoshowherthe"pointsofhistoricalinterest"inandaroundthePlaza.
　　"There’stheStevensonmemorialshipinthecentre，see;andrightthere，wheretheflagstaffis，GeneralBakermadethefuneralorationoverthebodyofTerry.Broderickkilledhiminaduel——
　　orwasitTerrykilledBroderick？Iforgetwhich.Anyhow，rightopposite，wherethatpawnshopis，iswheretheOverlandstagesusedtostartin’49.AndeveryotherbuildingthatfrontsonthePlaza，eventhisonewe’reinnow，usedtobeagambling—houseinbonanzatimes;and，see，overyonderistheMorgueandtheCityPrison."
　　Theyturnedbackintotheroom，andagreat，fatChinamanbroughtthemteaonCondy’sorder.Butbesidestea，hebroughtdriedalmonds，pickledwatermelonrinds，candiedquince，and"Chinanuts."
　　TraviscutthecheeseintocubeswithCondy’spenknife，andarrangedthecubesingeometricfiguresuponthecrackers.
　　"But，Condy，"shecomplained，"whyintheworlddidyougetsomanycrackers？There’shundredsofthemhere——enoughtofeedaregiment.Whydidn’tyouaskme？"
　　"Huh！what？what？Idon’tknow.What’sthematterwiththecrackers？Youweredickeringwiththecheese，andthemansaid，’Howmanycrackers？’Ididn’tknow.Isaid，’Oh，givemeaquarter’sworth！’"
　　"Andwecouldn’tpossiblyhaveeatentencents’worth！Oh，Condy，youare——youare——Butnevermind，here’syourtea.Iwonderifthisgreen，pastystuffisgood."
　　Theyfoundthatitwas，butsosweetthatitmadetheirteatastebitter.ThewatermelonrindswereflattotheirWesternpalates，butthedriedalmondswereagreatsuccess.ThenCondypromptlygotthehiccoughsfromdrinkinghisteatoofast，andfrettedupanddowntheroomlikeachickenwiththepiptillTravisgrewfaintandweakwithlaughter.
　　"Oh，well，"heexclaimedaggrievedly——"laugh，that’sright！I
　　don’tlaugh.Itisn’tsuchfunwhenyou’vegot’emyoursel’——
　　HULP."
　　"Butsitdown，forgoodness’sake！Youmakemesonervous.Youcan’twalkthemoff.Sitdownandholdyourbreathwhileyoucountnine.Condy，I’mgoingtotakeoffmyglovesandveil.
　　Whatdoyouthink？"
　　"Sure，ofcourse;andI’llhaveacigarette.DoyoumindifI
　　smoke？"
　　"Well，what’sthatinyourhandnow？"
　　"ByJove，Ihavebeensmoking！I——Ibegyourpardon.I’maregularstableboy.I’llthrowitaway."
　　Traviscaughthiswrist."Whatnonsense！IwouldhavetoldyoubeforeifI’dminded."
　　"Butit’sgoneout！"heexclaimed."I’llhaveanother."
　　Ashereachedintohispocketforhiscase，hishandencounteredapaper—coveredvolume.andhedrewitoutinsomeperplexity.
　　"Now，howinthewideworlddidthatbookcomeinmypocket？"hemuttered，frowning."WhathaveIbeencarryingitaroundfor？
　　I’veforgotten.IdeclareIhave."
　　"Whatbookisit？"
　　"Hey？book？h’m，"hemurmured，staring.