He snuffed the air in which the odor of cooking was mingled
deliciously with the odor of the pines. "If they don't hurry up
dinner," said he, "I'll rush in and eat off the stove. We used to
at home sometimes. It's great fun."

She smiled tolerantly. "I've missed you," said she, and she was
telling herself that this statement of a literal truth was the
quintessence of hypocritical cajolery. "You might have taken me
along."

He gave her a puzzled look. "Oh," said he finally, "you've been
thinking over what I said."

This was disconcerting; but she contrived to smile with winning
frankness. "Yes," replied she. "I've been very wrong, I see." She
felt proud of the adroitness of this--an exact truth, yet wholly
misleading.

His expression told her that he was congratulating himself on his
wisdom and success in having given her a sharp talking to; that he
was thinking it had brought her to her senses, had restored her
respect for him, had opened the way for her love for him to begin
to show itself--that love which he so firmly believed in, egotist
that he was! Could anything be more infuriating? Yet--after all,
what difference did it make, so long as he yielded? And once she
had him enthralled, then--ah, yes--THEN! Meanwhile she must
remember that the first principle of successful deception is self-
deception, and must try to convince herself that she was what she
was pretending to be.