“Angry, I mean, of course. I just say it that way—‘are you mad to me’—sometimes—to be—to be—nice, Mr. Bransford!”
“You needn’t bother! Good-by!”
“But I’ll see you again——”
“Never!”
“——when you’re not so—cross?”
Jeff reached for his stirrup.
“Oh, well! If you’re going to be huffy! Never it is, then, by all means! No—wait! I must give you back your present.”
“I have never given you a present. Some other man, doubtless. You should keep a list!” said Jeff, with bitter and cutting scorn.
The girl turned half away from him and hid her face with trembling hands; her shoulders shook with emotion.
“Look the other way, sir! Turn your head! You shall have your present back and then if you’re so anxious to go—Go!”