"That's it," he said.
"Don't be alarmed," I assured him, keeping my own face steady—no easy matter, for, as I say, I knew the hat. "Don't be alarmed, my son. She shall have a new one, if that will please you."
His smiles vanished. He seemed suspicious. His tone was cautiousness itself.
"But who will buy it?" he asked.
"Why, you!" I said.
He leaped to my side.
"I?"
"You," I repeated.
He laughed hysterically—whooped is the better word.
"You wait!" he cried, and, fairly dancing, he seized his cap and rushed madly for the door. It shut behind him, but as swiftly opened again.