He claims there can be no such thing as a love- debt, laughs at the absurdity of love-claims.”

“And I agree with him,” Graham said. “‘You promised to love me always,’ says the jilted one, and then strives to collect as if it were a promissory note for so many dollars. Dollars are dollars, but love lives or dies. When it is dead how can it be collected? We are all agreed, and the way is simple. We love. It is enough. Why delay another minute?”

His fingers strayed along her fingers on the keyboard as he bent to her, first kissing her hair, then slowly turning her face up to his and kissing her willing lips.

“Dick does not love me like you,” she said; “not madly, I mean. He has had me so long, I