nthony Lyveden. D'you hear? Blindness of heart.
From pride, vainglory and hypocrisy. Not that you're hypocritical, but
they go together, and it'll do no harm. And I shall make Valerie go,
and--and I shall pray for you both."

Anthony slid off his hat and put her hand to his lips....

As he did so, the car sped past a red lodge and into a curling drive.

Lady Touchstone sought for a pocket-handkerchief.

"There's a tear on my nose," she explained. "I can feel it. It's a
real compliment, Anthony Lyveden. You're the very first man that's
ever made Harriet Touchstone cry."

The car swept to the steps.

Anthony was down in a flash. Tenderly he handed her out....

By the time her aunt had alighted, Valerie was at the top of the steps.
Anthony walked up to her steadily. Then he took off his hat.

"I humbly apologize," he said. "It was unpardonable."

"You're right," said Valerie quietly. "That's just what it was."

As she spoke, a servant opened the door.

Valerie turned on her heel and walked into the house.

That same evening, when the others had gone to bed, Anthony called his
terrier and set him upon his knee.

"Patch," he said, "I've come back to the fold." As was his habit when
mystified, the terrier swallowed apologetically. "Is that too hard for
you, my fellow? Let me put it like this. Once there were just you and
I, weren't there? A fool and his dog. Caring for nobody, nobody
caring for them, but to each other--just everything." The Sealyham
licked his face. "Then one day she came ... She. A wonderful,
peerless creature, to dazzle the poor fool's eyes. And the fool just
fell down and worshipped her. He didn't forget his little dog, Patch.
He never did that. But--well, it wasn't the same. Of course not. You
must have felt it sometimes.... But you're a good little chap. And I
couldn't help it, Patch. She--seemed--so--very--sweet.... I risked
your life for her once. I did, really." He paused to stare into the
fire. Then he took a deep breath. "By Jove, if you'd gone... I
should have been left now, shouldn't I? Properly carted. Well, well,
old fellow, it's over now. Never again, Patch. The fool's learned his
lesson. You'd never let me down, would you? No. But she has. They
say it's a way women have. And I'm going to wash her right out of my
life, Patch. Right out. Now."

He set the dog down, stretched out his arms wearily, and got upon his
feet. The terrier le