“But Allie,” protested Zoie, pretending to be shocked and grieved.
“Don't you 'but Allie' me,” cried Alfred, turning upon her sharply. “All I want is my hat,” and again he started in search of Mary.
“But—but—but Allie,” stammered Zoie, as she followed him.
“But—but—but,” repeated Alfred, turning on her in a fury. “You've butted me out of everything that I wanted all my life, but you're not going to do it again.”
“You see, you said it yourself,” laughed Zoie.
“Said WHAT,” roared Alfred.
“But,” tittered Zoie.
The remnants of Alfred's self-control were forsaking him. He clinched his fists hard in a final effort toward restraint. “You'd just as well stop all these baby tricks,” he threatened between his teeth, “they're not going to work. THIS time my mind is made up.”
“Then why are you afraid to talk to me?” asked Zoie sweetly.
“Who said I was afraid?” demanded Alfred hotly.