His mood always determined his manner.
Without a moment's hesitation he ran to her and said:
"I acted mighty mean today, Becky, and I'm so sorry. I won't ever, ever do that way again, as long as ever I live-please make up, won't you?"
The girl stopped and looked him scornfully in the face:
"I'll thank you to keep yourself to yourself, Mr. Thomas Sawyer. I'll never speak to you again."
She tossed her head and passed on.
Tom was so stunned that he had not even presence of mind enough to say "Who cares, Miss Smarty?" until the right time to say it had gone by.
So he said nothing.
But he was in a fine rage, nevertheless.
He moped into the schoolyard wishing she were a boy, and imagining how he would trounce her if she were.