Have you brought
the wax mask with you, or have you not?"
"I have not."
"And why?"
Just as that question was put, Nanina felt the dog dragging
himself free of her grasp on his mouth. She had been listening
hitherto with such painful intensity, with such all-absorbing
emotions of suspense, terror, and astonishment, that she had not
noticed his efforts to get away, and had continued mechanically
to hold his mouth shut. But now she was aroused by the violence
of his struggles to the knowledge that, unless she hit upon some
new means of quieting him, he would have his mouth free, and
would betray her by a growl.
In an agony of apprehension lest she should lose a word of the
momentous conversation, she made a desperate attempt to appeal to
the dog's fondness for her, by suddenly flinging both her arms
round his neck, and kissing his rough, hairy cheek. The stratagem
succeeded. Scarammuccia had, for many years past, never received
any greater marks of his mistress's kindness for him than such as
a pat on the head or a present of a lump of sugar might convey.
His dog's nature was utterly confounded by the unexpected warmth
of Nanina's caress, and he struggled up vigorously in her arms to
try and return it by licking her face. She could easily prevent
him from doing this, and could so gain a few minutes more to
listen behind the summer-house without danger of discovery.
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