Hugh felt less inclined than ever to accommodate him.

Under other and more favorable conditions he might have been tempted to promise Nick to hand him over the skates, _for nothing_, after he had actually received the expected new ones.
"I'm sorry to refuse you again, Nick," Hugh said coldly; "but at present I have no other skates, and, as I expect to take part in a hockey match with the scratch Seven to-morrow, I'll need my runners." "But there's nothing to hinder you selling me the same, say next week, that I can see; unless mebbe you're just holdin' out on account of an old grudge against me.

How about that, Hugh ?" Hugh was still unconvinced.
"Just now I'm not in a humor to sell the skates, Nick," he said.
"If I change my mind, I'll let you know about it.

That's final.

And when I dispose of my skates it's my intention to _give_ them away, not sell them." He turned to do something at the desk where he was sitting.
Meanwhile, Nick had shuffled away, as though meaning to leave the room.