I have seen his
puppy, and I wish the royal duke could see her. She is a cross between
lurcher and greyhound; her cunning head resembles that of a terrier, and
her long, slim limbs are hard as steel. Her precious owner spends his
days in tippling; he never reads, and, I fancy, never thinks; he goes
forth at dusk, and his faithful dogs proceed to work for his livelihood.
The Consumptive is, as I have said, a man of great resource; but he has
for once been within a hair's breadth of disaster. When he walks across
the park at dusk, he likes to take his wife with him, and on such
occasions he looks like a quiet workman out for a stroll with the
missus. He sometimes puts his arm round the lady's waist, and the couple
look so very loving and tender. It would never do to take the raking,
great deerhound; but the innocent little fawn dog naturally follows her
master, and looks, oh! so demure.
The lady wears a wide loose cloak, which comes to her feet, for you must
know that the mists rise very coldly from the hollows.
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