Skippy began to be alarmed. He thought a moment and then carefully removed the dressmaker's form and hid it behind a packing-case. But the sight of Skippy's dancing companion brought forth a fresh attack of hysterics. Then he had recourse to water and a dripping oily sponge. The sight of this so affected Tootsie that she rose precipitately and staggered to a chair. Skippy at once abandoned the sponge and sympathetically proffered his handkerchief.
"It's goin' to cost me a lot of money," he thought, considering her with anxiety. He had fifteen dollars stowed away with the intention of adding it to the cash returns of his approaching birthday and acquiring his first dress suit. He made a mental surrender and advancing to the somewhat calmer Tootsie, a third time asked:
"Well, come on! What's your price?"
"Thief!" said Tootsie, all at once remembering her grievance.
"Oh, I say, can't you take a joke?"
"A joke! Wait'll I get even with you, Mr. Smarty!"
"Go easy. Name your terms."
"And I paid you to watch it!" said Tootsie, whose anger began to rise as her respiration returned.
Skippy mournfully admitted to himself that this had been an unnecessary aggravation.
"Shucks! You didn't think I was going to keep the money, did you?" he said, bringing out a dollar bill and tendering it humbly.