leaped. Instantly the man knew that he had
seen his maid. He had no doubt of it at all, but was quite positive.
If a million Archangels had appeared and with one voice told him that
he was wrong, he would have shaken his head with a smile. His heart
had leaped, and there was an end of it. He just knew. In view of the
prospective failure of so many Archangels, it is not surprising that my
lady herself, whatever she did, would not be able to erase this
impression. Consequently though she had behaved to his face with a
manner which it was a Quixotic courtesy to style "disdain," Anthony
never wavered. For a second of time he had seen beyond the veil--at
least, his heart had--and, now that he knew what it hid, all
reinforcement of that veil was out of date. My lady might line it with
oak, with brass, with masonry miles thick--and all her labour would be
in vain. All the same, Anthony hoped devoutly that she would do
nothing of the kind....

With a sigh he drank to their next meeting.

Then he called the terrier and set him upon his knee.

"My fellow," said he, "listen. In these very precincts you committed
an aggravated assault upon an Irish terrier. I don't blame you. He
probably deserved it. But--he belongs to the lady--my lady, Patch, the
only lady in the world. And she didn't like it, my boy. She didn't
like it at all. So remember, if ever we meet her again, you mustn't
fight. I don't want to be hard on you, but you mustn't. Of course, if
you could show him a little courtesy--indicate a scent which will repay
investigation, or something--I should be exalted. But I don't press
that. A strictly non-committal attitude will serve. But
aggression--no. Patch, I trust you. I know it's difficult for you to
understand, but you'll be a good dog and try, won't you? For my sake,
Patch?"

Whether the Sealyham in fact appreciated the nature and gravity of the
request is a matter which cannot be decided upon this side of the
grave. The fact remains that when, upon entering the grounds of the
Dogs' Home some thirty-five minutes later, he encountered that very
Irish terrier, looking rather sorry for himself and attached to the end
of a long lead, he walked straight up to him and bestowed upon him as
generous a greeting as his nostrils and tail could convey.

Anthony could hardly believe his eyes....

At the other end of the lead was a kennelman, who spoke quickly and to
the point.

"Beggin' your pardon,