“Oh, I—don't you laugh, John, it ain't funny. It's mean. It's what somebody said. She said if a man really loves a girl, he gives her something so folks 'll know—like a ring or something.” She laughed nervously. “And I just told her that I wasn't engaged on her account, and if she thought I ought to wear a ring she needn't look at me, that's all. She was awful mad.”
Hunch was silent.
“Now, don't you be cross. I don't want a ring, John, anyway, until—well, until we're married. It don't mean anything when two people love each other like you and me do. Good-night, you old boy. Now, don't go and be cross. And don't forget we're going to the dance to-morrow night.”
Hunch laughed a little and kissed her. Then he walked slowly down the street.
At noon on the following day, He went into the jewelry store near the post-office and looked at rings. There was one large ring with two diamonds set in a snake's head.
“How much is it?” Hunch asked.
“Ninety dollars. Best ring we've got. There ain't another like it this side of Grand Rapids.”
“That's the one I want then,” said Hunch. “Will you put it by for me?”
“Take it right along, Mr. Badeau. There's no hurry about the money.”
“No,” said Hunch, “I won't take it until I can pay for it.”