"Same to you," called back Ray. He and Kate swung into the procession on the boulevard. Kate was smiling happily. "You haven't changed a bit!" she cried. "You keep right on enjoying yourself, don't you?" "Not a bit of it," retorted Ray indignantly. "I've been miserable! You know I have. The only satisfaction I got at all was in hoping I was making you miserable, too. Was I?" "I wouldn't own to it if you had," said Kate. "Shall we forgive each other?" "Do you want it to be as easy as that--after all we've been through? Wouldn't it be more satisfactory to quarrel?" "You can if you want, of course," Kate laughed. "But hadn't it better be with some other person? Really, I wanted to see you dreadfully--or, at least, I wanted to see you pleasantly. I had made preparations. You didn't let me know when to expect you, and I had an engagement when you did come. Weren't you foolish to get in a rage?" "But I was so frightfully disappointed. I expected so much and I had expected it so long." "Ray!" Her voice was almost stern, and he turned to look at her half with amusement, half with apprehension. "Expect nothing. Enjoy yourself to-day." "But how can I enjoy myself to-day unless I am made to understand that there is something I may expect from you? Circumstances have kept us playing fast and loose long enough. Can't we come to an understanding, Kate?" Kate stopped to look in a florist's window and fixed her eyes upon a vast bouquet of pale pink roses. "Do say something," he said after a time. "Shall I speak from the heart?" "Oh, yes, please." He drew his breath in sharply between his teeth. "Well, then, I'm not ready to give up my free life, Ray. I can't seem to see my way to relinquishing any part of my liberty. I think you know why. I've told you everything in my letters. I feel too experimental to settle down." "You don't love me!" "Did I ever say I did?" "You gave me to understand that you might." "You wanted me to try." "But you haven't succeeded? Then, for heaven's sake, let me go and make out some other programme for myself. I've come back to you because I couldn't be satisfied away from you. I've seen women, if it comes to that,--cities of women. But there's no one like you, Kate, to my mind; no one who so makes me enjoy the hour, or so plan for the future. Ever since that day when you stood up by the C Bench and fought for the right of women to sit on it,--that silly old C Bench,--I've liked your warring spirit. And I come back, by Jove, to find you marching with the militant women! Well, I didn't know whether to laugh or swear! Anyway, you do beat the world." "A pretty sweetheart I'd make," cried Kate, disgusted with herself. "I'm only good to provide you with amusement, it seems."