He did not mean to be quizzical, but his voice sounded so, and she detected it.
"Yes, many," she answered with a little ring of defiance in her tone--"many, often." "Where ?" he queried recklessly.
"In Lebanon," she retorted.

"In Lebanon--your side." How different she seemed from a few moments ago when she stood listening like a nymph for the song of the Spirit of the Wood! Now she was gay, buoyant, with a chamois-like alertness and a beaming vigour.
"Now I know what 'blind drunk' means," he replied musingly.

"In Manitou when men get drunk, the people get astigmatism and can't see the tangledfooted stagger." "It means that the pines of Manitou are straighter than the cedars of Lebanon," she remarked.
"And the pines of Manitou have needles," he rejoined, meaning to give her the victory.
"Is my tongue as sharp as that ?" she asked, amusement in her eyes.
"So sharp I can feel the point when I can't see it," he retorted.
"I'm glad of that," she replied with an affectation of conceit.

"Of course if you live in Lebanon you need surgery to make you feel a point." "I give in--you have me," he remarked.
"You give in to Manitou ?" she asked provokingly.

"Certainly not--only to you.