“Oh, yes! oh, yes!” said the man. “I won’t charge you any thing,—not a penny: cheap enough,—he, he, he!” The wicked-looking man wanted Nora’s beautiful hair to make up into curls, such as ladies buy. He came close up with his shears.
“Oh, I want it, I want it!” said Nora, beginning to cry.
“Let the man have it, can’t you?” said Paul.
“Oh, I can’t let him! I can’t, I can’t!” said Nora, sobbing.
“Why not? what’s the use of it?” said Paul.
“Oh!” said Nora, “because—because—I like it. And I have no boots, and no night-clothes, and nobody to lead me; and so—and so—I want it.”
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said the man. “I’ll give you something for it. What do you want most?—he, he, he! Think now. Isn’t there any thing you want most?”
“Yes, sir,” said Nora; for she remembered what she had told Paul in the morning.
“Well,” said the man, “I thought so. What is it? Say.”
“I don’t like to speak it,” said Nora.