"Come in? No! You have given the hat to another man? A trifling mistake! He calls it a trifling mistake!"—addressing the heavens, obscured though they were by the thickness of several ceilings. "Oh, what shall I do?" She began to wring her hands, and when a woman does that what earthly hope is there for the man who looks on?
"Don't do that!" I implored. "I'll find the hat." At a word from her, for all she had trampled on me, I would gladly have gone to Honolulu in search of a hat-pin. "The gentleman left me his card. With your permission I will go at once in search of him."
"I have a cab outside. Give me the address."
"I refuse to permit you to go alone."
"You have absolutely nothing to say in regard to where I shall or shall not go."
"In this one instance. I shall withhold the address."
How her eyes blazed!
"Oh, it is easily to be seen that you do not trust me." I was utterly discouraged.
"I did not imply that," with the least bit of softening. "Certainly I would trust you. But...."
"Well?"—as laughingly as I could.