THE GIRL IN HIS HOUSE
"Nothing doing, Betty. I shall never marry." Armitage pulled out his pipe and filled it.
"Oh, piffle!" exploded Burlingham. "You're only thirty-four. Mark me, old scout, after six years' roaming around jungles and hobnobbing with 'duskies,' you'll fall for the first 'skirt' that makes googoo eyes at you. On the other hand, much as I like Clare, I'm glad you didn't hook up. She's beautiful, but hard. And don't you fool yourself that you weren't in love with her. You were; but you got over it."
"Piffle! A bit of slang sounds good."
"If human beings couldn't fall out of love as quickly and easily as they fall in, the murder editions of the evening papers would be on the streets before breakfast"; and Burlingham got out his pipe also.
For a quarter of an hour the two men sat in silence, puffing and blowing rings and sleepily eying the fire. Betty watched them amusedly. Weren't they funny! They hadn't seen each other in six long years, and hadn't ever expected to see each other again; and here they were, smoking their
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