He knelt down beside the trunk and took both her hands in his. He held them fast and rather hard.
“Are you throwing me down for good, Little Ann?” he said. “If you are, I can't stand it, I won't stand it.”
“If you care about me like that, you'll do what I tell you,” she interrupted, and she slipped down from the top of her trunk. “I know what Mother would say. She'd say, 'Ann, you give that young man a chance.' And I'm going to give you one. I've said all I'm going to, Mr. Temple Barholm.”
He took both her elbows and looked at her closely, feeling a somewhat awed conviction.
“I—believe—you have,” he said.
And here the sound of Mr. Hutchinson's loud and stertorous breathing ceased, and he waked up, and came to the door to find out what Ann was doing.
“What are you two talking about?” he asked. “People think when they whisper it's not going to disturb anybody, but it's worse than shouting in a man's ear.”
Tembarom walked into the room.
“I've been asking Little Ann to marry me,” he announced, “and she won't.”
He sat down in a chair helplessly, and let his head fall into his hands.