As he hurried eagerly across the verandah to meet Hilda who was hastening in her direct way for that “show down” which her peace of mind demanded, Cheerio held out toward her the intended gift.
In the bright moonlight, Hilda saw the locket in his hand, and she stopped short in her impetuous approach. Speech at that moment failed her. She felt as if suddenly choked, struck, and her heart was beating so riotously that it hurt her physically. A primitive surge of wild, ungovernable rage surged up within her.
In a far worse dilemma was the unfortunate and deluded and misunderstood Cheerio. At that psychological moment, when he would have given his life for eloquent speech in which to tell the girl before him of his love, he was overtaken with panic and confusion. The hostile attitude of the girl reduced him to a state of incoherent stuttering as he continued foolishly to extend the locket.
“Ww-w-w-w-w-w-w——”
She gave him no help. Her angry, wounded stare was pinned condemningly upon him.
“Www-w-w-w-w-w-will you accept this l-little m-m-m-m—memento of——”
“Accept that!”
Hilda said “That” as if referring to something loathsome.
“What should I want with it?”
“It” also was spoken as “that.”