Jack regarded her in contemptuous silence.

She shouted now, a high, mocking, joyous note in her laughter.

“Hah! You very, very, very, very affended, Mister Bigelow?”

“It seems to please you, apparently,” said Jack, scathingly, wasting his sarcasm, and turning his eyes from her.

She laughed wickedly.

“Ah, tha’s so nize.”

“What is?” he demanded, sharply.

“Thad you loog so angery. My! You loog like grade big—whad you call thad?—toranadodo.” She knew how to pronounce “tornado,” but she wanted to make him laugh. She failed in her purpose, however. She tried another way.

“How you change!” She sighed with beatific delight.

Jack growled.