"But Allie," protested Zoie, pretending to be shocked and
grieved.
"Don't you 'but Allie' me," cried Alfred, turning upon her
sharply. "All I want is my hat," and again he started in search
of Mary.
"But--but--but Allie," stammered Zoie, as she followed him.
"But--but--but," repeated Alfred, turning on her in a fury.
"You've butted me out of everything that I wanted all my life,
but you're not going to do it again."
"You see, you said it yourself," laughed Zoie.
"Said WHAT," roared Alfred.
"But," tittered Zoie.
The remnants of Alfred's self-control were forsaking him. He
clinched his fists hard in a final effort toward restraint.
"You'd just as well stop all these baby tricks," he threatened
between his teeth, "they're not going to work. THIS time my mind
is made up."
"Then why are you afraid to talk to me?" asked Zoie sweetly.
"Who said I was afraid?" demanded Alfred hotly.
"You ACT like it," declared Zoie, with some truth on her side.
"You don't want----" she got no further.
"All I want," interrupted Alfred, "is to get out of this house
once and for all and to stay out of it." And again he started in
pursuit of his hat.
"Why, Allie," she gazed at him with deep reproach. "You liked
this place so much when we first came here."
Again Alfred picked at the lint on his coat sleeve. Edging her
way toward him cautiously she ventured to touch his sleeve with
the brush.
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