She bit her lip and forced a smile.
He possessed the philanderer's tact. There was nothing in his
manner to indicate that he noticed anything unusual. He greeted
her cheerfully and then, affecting a shiver, passed on to spread
his hands out over the fire.
"This is great," he exclaimed, his back to her. He was giving her
a chance to compose herself. "Nothing like a big log fire to warm
the cockles of your heart,--although it isn't my heart that needs
warming. Moreover, I don't know what cockles are. I must look 'em
up in the dictionary. Come here, Sergeant,--there's a good dog!
Come over and get warm, old fellow. Toast your cockles. By Jove,
Miss Crown, isn't he ever going to make friends with me?"
"They are 'one man' dogs, Mr. Thane," she replied. "Come, Sergeant,--if
you're going to be impolite you must leave the room. Excuse me a
moment. Sergeant! Do you hear me, sir? Come!"
The big grey dog followed her slowly, reluctantly, from the room.
Courtney heard her going up the stairs.
"That nasty brute is going to take a bite out of me some day," he
muttered under his breath. "Fat chance I'd have to kiss her with
that beast around."
He heard the closing of an upstairs door. His thoughts were still
of the police dog.
"There's one thing sure," he said to himself. "That dog and I can't
live in the same house." Then his thoughts rose swiftly to that
upstairs room,--he was sure it was a dainty, inviting room,--to
picture her before the mirror erasing all visible evidence of
agitation.
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