resembled a rabbit.

In the confusion of the moment Rachel had called him Jacob, because she
thought that Jacob was, in the Bible, the "hairy one".... After all, you
_could_ not call a dog Esau.

Yes, to retain him had needed courage. Thinking of Roddy's attitude to
the dog brought so many other attendant thoughts in its train. Roddy in
his devotion to animals (and oh! he _was_ devoted), had no room for
those that were not of the aristocracy.

Concerning dogs who were mongrels he was kind but thought them much
better dead. Unkind he would never be, but the way in which he ignored
Jacob was worse than any unkindness.

Jacob, sensitive perhaps from early suffering, knew this and avoided
Roddy, ran out of the room when he came into it, showed in every way
that he must not expect to rank with the other dogs.

Very characteristic this attitude of Roddy, but very characteristic,
too, the affection that Jacob was now receiving from his mistress. There
was something that Jacob drew from Rachel that none of the fine, noble
dogs of the house was able to secure.... Why?... What, again, was the
matter? Why was Rachel unhappy?

Rachel was unhappy, and the answer came quite clearly to her as the room
was darkened by the great storm of snow now falling over the Downs and
the garden, because marriage with Roddy had not lessened in any way that
uneasy disquiet that had stirred, without pause, beneath her life
before her marriage; that uneasiness had, indeed, during the last three
months, increased....

Was this her fault or Roddy's?

Attacked now by a scrutiny that refused dismissal she delivered herself
up to the investigation of these months of her married life.

She knew that she had only once been happy since her marriage--that was
on the first evening, when, the noise and clamour of the London wedding
having died away, she had walked with Roddy in the peace of the Massiter
garden (Lady Massiter had lent her house for the first weeks of the
honeymoon), had felt his arm about her, had believed that there had
really come to her that comfort and safety for which she longed.

After that there had followed a fortnight of great unreality--the
strangest excitement, the most adventurous wonders, but a wonder and
excitement that were from herself, the real Rachel Beaminster, most
absolutely removed. It was as though she had watched closely but
detached the experiences of some other girl. Roddy had, during those
times, been a mos