"I did."
"You did n't."
"I did, too."
"He did n't, did he, Chi?" said Hazel, furious at this charge of apparent timidity.
"I don't believe you drew it back even if March does think he saw you," said Chi, pouring oil both ways on the troubled waters; "'n' I never thought 't was just the thing for a boy to tell a girl she was a coward before she'd proved to be one--specially if he belongs to this Society."
The Marquis de Lafayette hung his head at this rebuke; but in the action his cocked hat of black and gilt paper lurched forward and drew off with it his white cotton-wool wig. Budd and Cherry, forgetting all rules, fines, and sense of propriety, rolled over and over at the sight; Rose sat down shaking with laughter, and even Chi lost his dignity.
"I wish you would let me see, or do something," said Hazel, plaintively, when she could make herself heard.
"'T ain't fair to keep Hazel waiting so," declared Budd, and the president called the meeting to order again.
"Put out your hand, Hazel," said Rose. "Now shake."
Hazel grasped a hand, cold, deathly cold, and clammy. The chill of the rigid fingers sent a corresponding shiver down the length of her backbone, and the goose-flesh rose all over her arms and legs. She thought she must shriek; but she recalled Chi's words, set her teeth hard, and shook the awful thing with what strength she had, never uttering a sound.