"What are you talking about, Wilson?" exclaimed Kitty impatiently. "Please let me pass, and don't be silly."
"Silly! she calls me silly!"
Wilson nodded thrice solemnly and tried to take Kitty's hand; failing in which, he waved his own and then leveled a wavering forefinger at her.
"Katrine, it is time we came to an unshand—undershand—understanding! I feel—I have long felt—that we were born for each other. Why blink the fact?"
This struck Wilson as a strong expression; he repeated it—"Why blink the fact! Let us hail it, joyfully, Katrine. Two hearts that beat as one! You are mine, little bird: mine!"
Now, however much Wilson Wibird might indulge in remarks of this kind to his crony, the mirror, he would not have dared to make them to Kitty when sober, and Kitty knew it. After that swift glance up and down the road, she drew out a long steel hatpin and held it in her hand.
"Wilson," she said briefly, "what do you mean? What are you talking about, and what do you want?"
"Want—you!" Wilson opened his arms with a dramatic gesture. "You are mine, I say! I have an iron will, Katrine, and that will claims you. Come, little bird! Let us seal our union with a k——"
"If you come one step nearer," said Kitty quietly, "I'll run this pin into you."
She displayed the pin, really a formidable weapon.