Therefore, the question is: how does O. Henry use his sense of phrasing, imagery, setting, and pace to show the effective use of pursuit as a means of cause-and-effect for a "Girl." But one warning: as always, when one gets what one wants, there's always a price to pay.
In this case, it's not the antagonist (the girl).
The price that's going to be paid is the way you thought the story would play out for resolution. But after all, no one said the results of the effect had to be what you expected. And that's your job: tell me how and why this is so.
In gilt letters on the ground glass of the door of room No. 962 were the words: "Robbins & Hartley, Brokers." The clerks had gone. It was past five, and with the solid tramp of a drove of prize Percherons, scrub- women were invading the cloud-capped twenty-story office building. A puff of red-hot air flavoured with lemon peelings, soft-coal smoke and train oil came in through the half-open windows. Robbins, fifty, something of an overweight beau and addicted to first nights and hotel palm-rooms, pretended to be envious of his partner's commuter's joys.
"Stay here," said Hartley. "I will meet him in the hall."
"Now. As soon as you can get ready."
Hartley clinched his teeth and bent his brows together.
"Promise me," he said feelingly, "on your word and honour."
In an hour and forty minutes Hartley stepped off the train at Floralhurst. A brisk walk of ten minutes brought him to the gate of a handsome two-story cottage set upon a wide and well-tended lawn. Halfway to the house he was met by a woman with jet-black braided hair and flowing white summer gown, who half strangled him without apparent cause. When they stepped into the hall she said: "Mamma's here. The auto is coming for her in half an hour. She came to dinner, but there's no dinner."
Her mother came running into the hall.
The dark-haired woman screamed again- the joyful scream of a well-beloved and petted woman.